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teen poem

es war der Herbst des Jahres
winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
ich kann nicht seinem greatness immer glauben
Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist
desolate und einsam
wer der Läufer in den Himmeln ist
Ginghamhund und die Kalikokatze
wie ich innen roofed liege, innen aussortiert

 



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