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def poetry

doux et fort
oiseaux contre le vent d'avril
la noblesse de la mort encore
doucement pleurant
ce que je souhaite remarquer
l'obscurité roule vers le haut
nous avons aucune honte?
il y a un pays complètement de vin
il y avait un temps en anciennes années
l'aube était vert pomme
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
laissez le bel unsaid de mots

 



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