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son poem

obwohl ich wenig als alle kleinen Sachen bin
sie hat einen freien Raum, Wind-geschtztes loveliness
ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
gestiegen von den Toten
Roses und Gold
es gab ein strangeness auf Ihren Lippen
seit, wenn Sie meine Seite heute bereitstanden
wenn ihr Haar wild flaying

 



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