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death poetry

sie konnte ihn im früheren Frühling gekannt haben
ich sah die erste Birne
traurig sprechend
entlang einem River-side
dunkelstes, merkwürdigstes Geheimnis
Glasbläser der Zeit
nicht von der breiten Welt des Ganzen
ich sah ihn einmal vorher
die alten Songs
als ich in Ihre Augen schaute
Farbtöne der Nacht fielen schnell
wenn ihr Haar wild flaying
diese sind

 



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