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death poetry

ich habe sie in der Nacht gehört
Roses und Gold
ich sagte
das Kind, das weg Blatt nach Blatt warf
zwischen den musing Sonnenuntergang und die Dunkelheit
häufig denke ich an die schöne Stadt
der Regen sein rüber und die leuchtende Luft
ein mit Ihnen
warum Sie immer der dort shivering Standplatz tun Sie
Gedanken durch meinen Kopf

 



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