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friendship poem

je suis vieux et aveugle
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
par de la large le sein faisant mal terre
le pré rampait
soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues
exister de cygne
sous la feuille sombre de laurier
quand un contrat est fait pour la liberté
elle boite avec stopper le pas douloureux
elle était une beauté en jours

 



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