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pumpkin poem

puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
j'ai eu une crainte dans ma vie
un regard est mais un rayon
bonheur
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
comment comme les étoiles sont ces le blanc, les visages inconnus
dans l'obscurité et la paix de mon lit final
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre

 



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