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sympathy poem

c'était l'automne de l'année
glooms des vivre-chênes
laissez-moi se déplacer lentement par la rue
chère épouse
il est allé
je secoue mes cheveux dans le vent du matin
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
comment comme les étoiles sont ces le blanc, les visages inconnus

 



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