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suicide poem

vieux vin à boire
vous faites entendre
j'ai entendu le vent toute la journée
je dois dire bonne nuit
mais alas, rêves justes
cette année
qui est le coureur dans les cieux
les bateaux se situent dans le compartiment
elle était une beauté en jours
je suis fevered
l'odeur du s'est levée si faux, les épines si vraies
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer

 



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