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baby poem

Schlaf, grauer Bruder des Todes
Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
tat Sie sehen überhaupt ein Krokodil
ich habe das Rennen gewonnen
ich sehe allen menschlichen Esprit
obwohl Lieberepine und Grundscheuern
alle innen und alle ohne mich
er kam mich durch die Hand nehmen
nie in meinem ganzem Leben

 



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