

Cendre
You cannot read any more publications this month without being logged in.
To enjoy unlimited access and take full advantage of new features, log in or create an account by clicking below. It's free!
Log in
Cendre
Le monde tombe sur mon cœur comme une pierre,
Le temps mange ma jeunesse comme un goinfre,
Les maux envenime mon sang comme un poison,
Je suis la génération des chagrins.
A quoi bon lutter dans ce brouillon, dans ce brouet de vie ?
A quoi bon ? pourtant,
Beaucoup d’oiseaux attendent
De sentir le vent se


You cannot read any more publications this month without being logged in.
To enjoy unlimited access and take full advantage of new features, log in or create an account by clicking below. It's free!
Log in