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poetry poem

Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nüchtern
so gefallen
in können Sie
gegangen vor uns
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
sind Sie lebendig?
erklären Sie mir
wer der Läufer in den Himmeln ist
innerhalb meiner Hand halte ich
als weiße Kerze
tat Sie sehen überhaupt ein Krokodil
ich sah die erste Birne
warum Sie immer der dort shivering Standplatz tun Sie

 



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