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best friend poem

il y a des gains pour toutes nos pertes
en tant qu'elle
dans le port de New York
les poèts le disent
il y a une heure du repos paisible
le maître des destins humains suis moi
comment j'aidez vers la droite le monde qui tourne mal
jamais dans toute ma vie
observer toute la journée la vague bleue se courber et se casser

 



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