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footprint poem

la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
les cieux qu'ils étaient ashen et sobre
souvent je pense Ă  la belle ville
par le pont grossier
homme froid sévère
il n'y avait jamais un bruit près du bois mais d'un
j'aime ma vie, mais pas trop bien
mélancolie, bleu il était
désolé et seul
orage

 



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