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halloween poem for kid

si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
peu de parc que je traverse
je ne prie pas pour la paix
dans toutes les choses non parlées de
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
monde qui change sous ma main
avec ses cheveux flaying d'une manière extravagante
se déclenchant vers le haut, tombant vers le bas
en septembre
souvent je pense à la belle ville
se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé

 



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