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missing you poem

un mot de vol d'ici et lŕ
o juste et stately bonne, dont les yeux
l'obscurité roule vers le haut
les voűtes du pont rouge
souvent je pense ŕ la belle ville
je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness
le poing serré simple soulevé et préparent
une fois ce gazon mou
maintenant tandis que mes lčvres vivent
dans l'obscurité et la paix de mon lit final
étaient elle pas pour cette odeur singuličre

 



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