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poetry poem

ich verachte meine Freunde mehr als Sie
über dem Fluß winken sie zu mir zu
wie ich innen roofed liege, innen aussortiert
kein Opfer sind ich der schlechten Gedanken
haben Sie gesehenes Gehen durch das Dorf
Bonbon mit Farn und stieg
das traurigste des Jahres
sie kennt eine preiswerte Freigabe
ist häufig er nicht so?
über ihnen alle, unten schauend

 



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