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sad poem

vous a fait entendent parler jamais
hors du profond et de l'obscurité
je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness
sous un arbre de propagation de châtaigne
dans pouvez
il n'y a aucune bande, toutefois observé et tendu
si j'avais su l'étroit une prison est amour
quand, plein de l'amour chaud et désireux
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
un stylo d'acier

 



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