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good bye poem

an der Dämmerung sagte er
erklären Sie mir nicht
wenn ich sterbe, denken Sie nur dieses an mich
ich wundere mich, wo Sie leben
Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist
das kleine mitfühlende, getragen, Lachengesichter
wenn Nacht entlang den Straßen der Stadt treibt
ein Sturm fährt auf den Tide
lassen Sie hören

 



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