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autumn poem

erinnern sich Sie
kein Opfer sind ich der schlechten Gedanken
die alten Songs
winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
sehen Sie, daß ich Ihnen mich gebe
sie kennt eine preiswerte Freigabe
von Fußboden zu Decke
der Schnee whispers über mich
sie in der Schwärzungsversammlung und bitten
Welt, die unter meiner Hand ändert
und breakethbrot nicht mehr

 



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