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suicide poetry

je l'aime
il est vrai que vous disiez que les dieux sont plus d'utilisation à vous que des fées
comme je me trouve couvert dedans, examiné dedans
leurs beaux cheveux
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
doux comme lit dans la terre
ne soyez pas fâché avec moi

 



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