Myelodysplastic Syndrome Surivial Rate

The guys who love kissing
standing against the gates of the night
And that pass through them pointed at
But guys who love
There are no
And it is only their shadow
That trembles in the night
stimulating the anger of passers
Their anger their laughter, their scorn
I envy you guys no love for nobody else
They are much more distant than the night
much higher in the bright of day
splendor of their first love

Jacques Prévert