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pastor appreciation poem

j'ai vu la première poire
descendu à l'aube des collines windless
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
laissez-moi se déplacer lentement par la rue
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
je me demande parfois s'il est vraiment vrai
je me demande où vous vivez
un poèt, ayant pris le frein outre de sa langue
comme un homme nu je vont
je ne puis pas vous dire maintenant
quand, plein de l'amour chaud et désireux
simplicité

 



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