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teen poem

eine Feder des Stahls
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
es gab drei in der Wiese durch den Bach
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
singen Sie wieder dem Song Sie gesungen
er würde sogar seinen Witz haben
um Mitternacht
Sie sind frei
wenn es
es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand

 



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