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sad poem

babylon -- où je vais rêver
truely
il y avait de trois dans le pré par le ruisseau
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
j'ai gagné la course
musing, entre le coucher du soleil et l'obscurité
bien que repine d'amour, et frottement de raison
vous a fait entendent parler jamais
si je meurs, pensez seulement ceci à moi
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer

 



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