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sorry poem

war sie nicht für diesen einzigartigen Geruch
in den mournful Zahlen
sie war eine Schönheit an den Tagen
durch die rude Brücke
möglicherweise
meine Seele ist ein dunkles gepflogenes Feld
noch schaukelt ihr Grau Aufsatz über das Meer
die Schwärzung
lassen Sie uns unsere niedrigeren Neigungen ausdrücken

 



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