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broken heart poem

meine Seele geht in den gorgeous Sachen plattiert
pharaoh, König von Land Ägyptens
noch schaukelt ihr Grau Aufsatz über das Meer
innerhalb meiner Hand halte ich
jetzt für einen lebhaften und freundlichen Kampf
an der Dämmerung sagte er
gerade als meine Finger auf diesen Schlüsseln
das traurigste des Jahres
Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist
ein Sturm fährt auf den Tide

 



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