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funeral poem

fleurs des bébés
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
je me suis tenu prêt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
ne soyez pas faux
vous êtes clair
le long d'une rive
par le pont grossier
vécu à côté de la rive
je remplis cette tasse

 



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