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pumpkin poem

machen Sie sich nicht Sorgen, daß er rüber sein
ich bin alt und blind
aus dem tiefen heraus und die Dunkelheit
wie ich innen roofed liege, innen aussortiert
es gibt Gewinne für alle unsere Verluste
sind Sie wach?
wenn es
unter dem Helm des Warriors
tat Sie sehen überhaupt ein Krokodil
ich erwarte Sie

 



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