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friendship poetry

quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
il y a trois manières dont les hommes prennent
les jours mélancoliques sont venus
très bien, vous libéraux
ombres à ailes balayant près
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
quand, plein de l'amour chaud et désireux
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
je me demande parfois s'il est vraiment vrai
je sais pas où
quand je suis retourné au coucher du soleil
éliminer, luttant vainly

 



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