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friend poetry

vor dem ernsten Bronzeheiligen
fĂĽr dann auĂźen
holen Sie mir weichen Song
ein Nebel fuhr unten
truely
wenn ich zurĂĽck zu Masse gehe
auf und ab geht ihn
auf und an
und breakethbrot nicht mehr
Gott
ich loathed Sie
Bruder, bin ich Feuer
lassen Sie das reizende Wortunsaid
winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen

 



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