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broken heart poem

une histoire très remarquable ceci est
monde qui change sous ma main
à travers He va
la fille, art de thou viennent pour mourir
hauts murs et énorme
donnez-moi
sans aucun doute je me rappelle toujours
quand les heures du jour sont numérotées
gros mâles noirs dans une salle de vin-baril
sous ma fenêtre dans une rue de ville
stand ici par mon côté
dans votre vol
doucement pleurant

 



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