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short funny poem

la dame, votre coeur s'est tournée vers la poussière
la nuit était noire et triste
vous a fait entendent parler jamais
j'ai vu la première poire
il est venu me prendre par la main
seule
j'ai aimé une femme
le poing serré simple soulevé et préparent
hauts murs et énorme
o juste et stately bonne, dont les yeux
bonne femme
l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
course haut-soutenue
de la chanson et du rêve pour jamais allé

 



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