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thanksgiving poem

clair de lune profond et tendre
je dédaigne mes amis davantage que vous
le plus triste de l'année
doucement maintenant la lumière du jour
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
pour venir tellement bientôt à ceci a imaginé l'obscurité

 



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