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christian poem

warum die Sachen sind, die keinen Tod haben
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
sehen Sie, daß ich Ihnen mich gebe
ich denke sie gerades herrliches
machen Sie sich nicht um das unsichtbare Sorgen
als ich war, lief London ein
Roses und Gold
Einfachheit
ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist

 



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