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math poem

comme des aigles sur la haute haute
treize ans toujours
l'aube était vert pomme
pour moi étais un conseiller décharné et grave
complètement des larmes
affligez-vous pas pour l'invisible
le corps peut confiner
le maître des destins humains suis moi
un poèt, ayant pris le frein outre de sa langue
tout mon amour pour mon bonbon
voyez, ils retournent

 



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