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mom poem

à minuit
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
il y a trois ans d'aujourd'hui
une fois ce gazon mou
il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement
j'ai vu la première poire
il y a un pays complètement de vin
il n'y a aucune bande, toutefois observé et tendu
ainsi tombé

 



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