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funny poetry

pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
bas! 'tis par nuit de gala
ont eu lui et I mais réuni
bien que repine d'amour, et frottement de raison
serene d'après-midi et lumineux verts
le bonbon avec la fougère et s'est levé
oranges de plumaison nubian bleu-noires
il y a bien longtemps, dans le jeune clair de lune
son visage est juste et lisse et bon

 



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