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thanksgiving poetry

quand la nuit dérive le long des rues de la ville
dépassement par les murs blottis et laids
complètement des larmes
j'ai moulé le monde
elle a un espace libre, loveliness vent-abrité
peut-être ce n'est aucune matière que vous êtes morte
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
calme en tant que que deuxième été
avec le coucher du soleil
souvent je pense à la belle ville

 



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