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child poetry

puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort
foncé-eyed
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
peut-être
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
hauts murs et énorme
jamais dans toute ma vie
composé seul du loveliness
dernier minuit
ce qui conserve
je ne prie pas pour la paix
a arqué l'inondation
le soleil est vers le haut
je dois dire bonne nuit

 



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