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sad poem

sie limps mit dem Anhalten des schmerzlichen Schrittes
drehen Sie mich unten durch die Wiese
obwohl Lieberepine und Grundscheuern
wer den Wind nennen wird
voll von den Rissen
er kam mich durch die Hand nehmen
über den Dachspitzen laufen Sie die Schatten der Wolken
für diese weißen Arme über meinen Ansatz
ich sah mit geöffneten Augen

 



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