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poem for pastors

jetzt, während meine Lippen leben
wie ich innen roofed liege, innen aussortiert
hängen Sie keinen Wreath
aller Tag zum Aufpassen der blauen Welle sich zu kräuseln und zu brechen
weich jetzt das Licht des Tages
Sie sind mein Begleiter
es gibt drei Möglichkeiten, in denen Männer nehmen
die hypocritic Tage
vor dem ernsten Bronzeheiligen

 



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