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pastor appreciation poem

ich bin der Wind, der wavers
gibt es jedes dort
ich bete nicht für Frieden
machen Sie sich nicht um das unsichtbare Sorgen
dunkel-eyed
Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist
für dann außen
seien Sie in mir als die ewigen Stimmungen
läßt lang das Sommertageslicht glänzen
eine Feder des Stahls
ich loathed Sie
das traurigste des Jahres
die Schwärzung

 



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