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memorial poem

Sturm
im Hafen neuen Yorks
hatten er und i aber getroffen
sehen Sie, daß ich Ihnen mich gebe
haben wir keine Schande?
innerhalb meiner Hand halte ich
hohe Wände und sehr groß
zum leidenschaftlichen Geliebten
für dann außen
meine Seele geht in den gorgeous Sachen plattiert
ich singe Ihnen
schauen Sie heraus nach den Sternen, meine Liebe

 



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