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son poem

hoch-getragenes Rennen
ein Blick ist aber ein Strahl
melancholische Tage sind gekommen
einige der Hurts, die Sie kuriert haben
als Meer-Winde unsere Solitudes durchbohrten
Massentravails
wenn ich sterbe, denken Sie nur dieses an mich
hatten er und i aber getroffen
warum

 



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