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birthday poem

weich weinend
ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
Tage endeared zu jedem MUSE
durch die rude Brücke
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nüchtern
alle jene Schätze, die liegen
eine Feder des Stahls
entlang den Bänken
neben es gab nie einen Ton das Holz aber eins
ein Leben auf der Ozeanwelle


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