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best friend poem

Blüten der Babys
süß und stark
die hypocritic Tage
die einzelne zusammengeprgessene angehobene Faust und bereiten vor
wenn ich zurück zu Masse gehe
gelebt durch den River-side
ein Fliegenwort von hier und dort
glooms der Lebeneichen
ein Blick ist aber ein Strahl
ich wußte nie, daß die Masse soviel Gold hatte
die langen resounding Marmorflure
ich bete nicht für Frieden
liegt hier eine schönste Dame

 



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