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sad death poem

mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
j'ai dit
le plus triste de l'année
les cieux qu'ils étaient ashen et sobre
les étoiles sont tombées du ciel
je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness
au-dessus des dessus de toit emballez les ombres des nuages
calme en tant que que deuxième été

 



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