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suicide poem

il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement
ne soyez pas faux
pour venir tellement bientôt à ceci a imaginé l'obscurité
il n'y avait jamais un bruit près du bois mais d'un
la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
je me suis tenu
comme égaliser tombe
laissez-moi se déplacer lentement par la rue
je me tiens par temps gris froid
là où je trouvez-vous
il y a des gains pour toutes nos pertes
dans toutes les choses non parlées de

 



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