.Il y a des douleurs fragiles, des peines au parfum indélébile.
Des matins au goût amer, des réveils sans bruit et sans lumière.
Il y a ces larmes évadées qui viennent s'inviter dans nos silences
Ces ombres écrasent du passé qui font qu'on y repense.
Il y a ce visage si pur, .
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