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death poem

als es
die Qual des Habens zu vieler Energie
ich bin eine Frau
hören Sie zum klingenden Meer
im September
in einem alten Raum beleuchtete weich
schreckliche Wahrheiten diese sind
die Dämmerung war apfelgrün
in das leise Land
die alten Songs
hatten er und i aber getroffen
es gab drei in der Wiese durch den Bach
die Sonne ist oben


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