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child poem

um Mitternacht
ein Dichter, nachdem den Zaum seine Zunge entfernt habend
Kerzen, die seitlich in den Tomatedosen stürzen
ich fülle diese Schale
Tochter, thoukunst kommen zu sterben
es gab eine Zeit in den ehemaligen Jahren
traurige Rolle der gedämpften Trommel hat Schlag
ich liebe die alten melodious Lagen
sind sie traurig, die nicht Liebe kennen
gerade jetzt

 



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