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thanksgiving poem

vers l'arrière, tournez vers l'arrière
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
simplicité
pourquoi
le maître des destins humains suis moi
vous a fait voient jamais un alligator
je suis vieux et aveugle
je les ai offerts tout l'adieu
quand la nuit dérive le long des rues de la ville

 



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