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cowboy poetry

ich sagte
verbessern Sie als Granit
meine Seele ist ein dunkles gepflogenes Feld
der alte Westen, die alte Zeit
blau-schwarze nubian zupfende Orangen
ich wundere manchmal, mich wenn es wirklich zutreffend ist
vor dem ernsten Bronzeheiligen
über den Dachspitzen laufen Sie die Schatten der Wolken
in den mournful Zahlen
Einfachheit

 



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