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poem for dad

warum
es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand
wir, die standen
Hinausschieben, vainly kämpfend
als es
wer den Regen liebt
ein mit Ihnen
wie wie die Sterne dieses WeiĂź ist, namenlose Gesichter
Meister der menschlichen Schicksale sind ich
die Wiese kroch

 



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