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suicide poem

vous dites que vous m'aimez
les cieux qu'ils étaient ashen et sobre
plantons
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
les nuances de la nuit tombaient rapidement
ami, dont le sourire est venu pour être
polit le dernier âge, le prochain avec espoir est vu

 



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