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broken heart poem

ich weiß, was Sie sagen werden
einfach sprechend
es gibt ein, das dieses i einmal so sehr liebte
es gibt keine Menge, gleichwohl aufgepaßt und geneigt
noch schaukelt ihr Grau Aufsatz über das Meer
im Bereich
gaily durch die Felder tanzten wir
er erklärt von den guten alten Zeiten
Schlaf, grauer Bruder des Todes

 



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