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funny poetry

ich bin der Wind, der wavers
dunkelstes, merkwürdigstes Geheimnis
aus dem Fenster heraus ein Meer der grünen Bäume
Sie sagen, daß Sie mich lieben
alle werfen die Jahre nieder
seien Sie nicht falsch
sie kennt eine preiswerte Freigabe
weich jetzt das Licht des Tages
wenn ich sterbe, denken Sie nur dieses an mich
die Sonne ist oben
es gab eine Zeit in den ehemaligen Jahren
alle innen und alle ohne mich
nun da ich zu Ihnen abgekühlt bin

 



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