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teacher poem

es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand
obwohl ich wenig als alle kleinen Sachen bin
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau na sind
und noch gingen sie an
wir legen
ich denke sie gerades herrliches
innerhalb dieses niedrigen Grabs liegt ein conqueror
ngstlich nicht mehr, sage ich
bis zu ihrem Raumfenster
meine Seele geht in den gorgeous Sachen plattiert

 



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