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graduation poem

exprimons nos passions plus basses
serene d'après-midi et lumineux verts
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
près d'un champ en détresse
il y a des gains pour toutes nos pertes
si j'avais su l'étroit une prison est amour
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer

 



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