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sad poetry

ce compagnon étrange est venu sur brouiller des pieds
elle doit retourner, elle a dit
soyez patient, la vie, quand l'amour est à la porte
il n'y a aucune bande, toutefois observé et tendu
si perdu
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
les petites prières blanches


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