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christian poem

il y avait de trois dans le pré par le ruisseau
je ne puis pas vous dire maintenant
l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
avec les yeux doux et bruns
j'ai dit
vous faites entendre
l'obscurité roule vers le haut
nous n'étions pas beaucoup
je fais ma monture, mais personne ne sait
dans pouvez
l'enfant qui a jeté la feuille aprčs feuille

 



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