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sad love poem

j'ai vu la première poire
il est venu me prendre par la main
gloom
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
seule
un poèt, ayant pris le frein outre de sa langue
quand je suis retourné au coucher du soleil
parmi les montagnes j'ai erré
foncé-eyed

 



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