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death poetry

in einem alten Raum beleuchtete weich
bleiben Sie nicht mehr
meine Seele ist ein dunkles gepflogenes Feld
Glück
es gab eine Zeit in den ehemaligen Jahren
rühren Sie sich
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
und so geht sie
erinnern sich Sie
hören Sie zum klingenden Meer
die alten Songs
lassen Sie mich durch die Straße langsam bewegen
gerade jetzt
liebe Frau

 



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