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grandma poem

je meurs
écoutez la mer retentissante
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
les drowses pâles de jour sur l'occidental trempent
pour pouvoir voir chaque côté de chaque question
quand j'étais un garçon à l'université
je ne prie pas pour la paix
elle a un espace libre, loveliness vent-abrité
près d'un champ en détresse

 



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