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grandmother poem

aus dem tiefen heraus und die Dunkelheit
geschaukelt in die Aufnahmevorrichtung vom tiefen
ich sagte
lassen Sie uns Pity die, denen besser seien Sie weg von, als wir sind
in den Wolke-grauen Morgen
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind
truely
alle werfen die Jahre nieder
für dann außen

 



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