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love poetry

si perdu
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
et ils marchaient toujours dessus
vous êtes beau et fané
polit le dernier âge, le prochain avec espoir est vu
indéfiniment
pour vêtir la pensée ardente
allé avant nous
ils dans le rassemblement d'obscurité et demandent

 



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