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retirement poem

ein kleiner Pfirsich im Obstgarten wuchs
er spricht nicht gut
ich habe eine Furcht in meinem Leben gehabt
ich liebe die alten melodious Lagen
als weiĂźe Kerze
sehen Sie das vorläufige
ich hatte einen Traum und ich wachte mit ihm auf
seien Sie nicht falsch

 



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