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christian poetry

monde qui change sous ma main
short et doux, et nous sommes arrivés à la fin de lui
beau
ne soyez pas faux
maintenant que je me suis refroidi Ă  vous
un orage monte sur la marée
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
par le pont grossier
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour

 



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