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father poem

ängstlich nicht mehr, sage ich
ich sterbe
was spiteful Wahrscheinlichkeit unawares stiehlt
der Regen sein rüber und die leuchtende Luft
und mein Name ist truthful
gegangen vor uns
niedrig! ' tis ein Galanacht
traurig sprechend
sehen Sie, sie zurückgehen
Gedanken durch meinen Kopf


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