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gothic poetry

j'ai eu une crainte dans ma vie
fleurs des bébés
ils me demandent où j'ai été
vous faites ne pas entendre
homme froid sévère
dépassement par les murs blottis et laids
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
short et doux, et nous sommes arrivés à la fin de lui
vous a fait voient jamais un alligator
la noblesse de la mort encore

 



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