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sad death poem

j'ai vu la première poire
quand j'étais un garçon à l'université
si j'avais su l'étroit une prison est amour
donnez-moi la faim
behold je, en mon chiffon, gaze et tresse
je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
la lumière retirée
la fille, art de thou viennent pour mourir
avant le saint en bronze solennel
le soleil et vent et battement de mer

 



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