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mom poem

meine sorge, wenn sie hier mit mir ist
ich gehe meine Weise complacently
machen Sie sich nicht Sorgen, daß er rüber sein
innerhalb dieses niedrigen Grabs liegt ein conqueror
ich rüttele mein Haar im Wind des Morgens
für Wahrheit für Liebe
hängen Sie keinen Wreath

 



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