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religious poem

unter meinem Fenster in einer Stadtstraße
herauf von den Süden am Bruch des Tages
gegangen vor uns
Blüten der Babys
lassen Sie uns Pity die, denen besser seien Sie weg von, als wir sind
ängstlich nicht mehr, sage ich
als weiße Kerze
ich liebe, eine Weile weg zu stehlen
ich loathed Sie
gerade jetzt

 



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