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thanksgiving poem

Moonlight tief und zart
ich habe das Rennen gewonnen
ich mag es
denken Sie, mein Junge, wenn ich meine Arme um Sie setze
ich sterbe
sie war eine Schönheit an den Tagen
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
auf und an
er wĂĽrde sogar seinen Witz haben

 



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