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halloween poem

je me suis tenu
je suis une femme
la fille, art de thou viennent pour mourir
là où je trouvez-vous
je ne prie pas pour la paix
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
en matins nuage-gris
vous êtes beau et fané
est souvent il pas aussi?
quand je vais de nouveau à la terre

 



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