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broken heart poem

il y avait de trois dans le pré par le ruisseau
la noblesse de la mort encore
deux rangées des choux
il y a trois ans d'aujourd'hui
étaient elle pas pour cette odeur singuličre
il est venu me prendre par la main
passé persistant de thou
l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
j'ai aimé une femme
vous ętes beau et fané

 



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