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best friend poem

Wille schimmern Sie auf dem Meer?
ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
auf und an
wer den Wind nennen wird
hören Sie den Regen?
lassen Sie uns unsere niedrigeren Neigungen ausdrücken
er erklärt von den guten alten Zeiten
Hinausschieben, vainly kämpfend
Blüten der Babys
als weiße Kerze


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