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wedding poetry

ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
jenseits schauen
häufig denke ich an die schöne Stadt
ich weiß nicht wo
einige windigere Tage
für dann außen
drehen Sie mich unten durch die Wiese
ein mit Ihnen
Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist
ich bin der Wind, der wavers
Melancholie, Blau war sie


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