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kid poem

ich sah die erste Birne
aus mir heraus unwürdig und unbekannt
achtzig Jahre haben und mehr überschritten
mittlere Vergnügen und Paläste, obwohl wir durchstreifen können
Meister der menschlichen Schicksale sind ich
gelebt durch den River-side
ihr schönes Haar
traurig sprechend
er würde sogar seinen Witz haben
ein Sturm fährt auf den Tide
diese sind

 



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