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african american poetry

er erklärt von den guten alten Zeiten
ich sagte, ich habe geschlossen mein Herz
für diese weißen Arme über meinen Ansatz
hören Sie zum klingenden Meer
sie war eine Schönheit an den Tagen
ich fülle diese Schale
innerhalb meiner Hand halte ich
ich kann nicht Ihnen jetzt erklären
einige windigere Tage
er kam mich durch die Hand nehmen

 



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