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lost love poem

ich bin eine Frau
Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist
erneuern Sie den Anblick der Freude
ich sterbe
lassen Sie hören
lieben Sie mich schließlich oder, wenn Sie nicht werden
ich sah die Wolken unter den Hügeln
alle beruhigen entlang dem potomac
sie limps mit dem Anhalten des schmerzlichen Schrittes
wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein
wir, die standen

 



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