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suicide poem

a arqué l'inondation
je me demande parfois s'il est vraiment vrai
et pain de breaketh pas plus
dans ma main je me tiens
laissez-nous pitié ceux outre dont soyez meilleur que nous sont
vous vous rappelez
les vieilles chansons
serene d'après-midi et lumineux verts
un, comme part d'un arbre
je les ai entendus la nuit
le régal royal a été fait
donc je ne puis pas

 



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