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baby shower poem

treize ans toujours
simplicité
ce qui nous fera maintenant
ne restez pas plus
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
souffleur de verre de temps
dans ma main je me tiens
elle était une beauté en jours
elle boite avec stopper le pas douloureux
très bien, vous libéraux
basculé dans le berceau du profond
bonne femme

 



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