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teen poem

j'ai vu la première poire
je vous ai détesté
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
qui est le coureur dans les cieux
ces coeurs ont été tissés des joies et des soins humains
vous faites entendre
les jours mélancoliques sont venus
vous a fait entendent parler jamais
mélancolie, bleu il était
au-dessus d'elles toutes, regardant vers le bas
dans le port de New York
les jours hypocrites

 



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