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death poetry

je suis allé à travers les rues
je me tiens par temps gris froid
à ce qui une femme la comparera aimée
vous a fait voient jamais un alligator
souffleur de verre de temps
sans aucun doute je me rappelle toujours
sous la lune de moisson
pourquoi puis, la nécessité nous voient?

 



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