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poem for dad

wenn ich gekonnt hatte, Enge ein Gefängnis Liebe ist
die Wiese kroch
obwohl ich wenig als alle kleinen Sachen bin
der Körper kann begrenzen
alle jene Schätze, die liegen
wickeln Sie die Masse im bewölkten Wetter auf
ein süß ernster Gedanke
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
ich liebe, eine Weile weg zu stehlen

 



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