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black poetry

Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
in den Wolke-grauen Morgen
liebe Frau
obwohl ich wenig als alle kleinen Sachen bin
geheimnisvolle Nacht
als ich am Sonnenuntergang zurückkam
Einfachheit
nie in meinem ganzem Leben
sehr gut Sie Liberale
glänzt das letzte Alter, das folgende mit Hoffnung wird gesehen
Gedanken durch meinen Kopf
bewiesen im Schimmer in Ihren Augen
wie wild, wie Hexe-wie sonderbares, das das Leben sein sollte

 



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