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mom poem

ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
schwach-weak-winged Song
bleiben Sie nicht mehr
der Geruch von stieg so falsch, die zutreffenden Dornen so
in können Sie
gebildet vom loveliness alleine
Frau vermißte viel, wie Sie zu mir benennen, Anruf zu mir
allein
einige windigere Tage
stieg und Bernstein war der Sonnenuntergang auf dem Fluß
der Schnee whispers über mich
ich liebe, eine Weile weg zu stehlen
wenn ich sterbe, denken Sie nur dieses an mich

 



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