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black poetry

ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
melancholische Tage sind gekommen
geben Sie mich
wer den Wind nennen wird
ich starrte den prachtvollen Himmel an
Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
alle beruhigen entlang dem potomac
ich wundere manchmal, mich wenn es wirklich zutreffend ist

 



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