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sorry poem

obwohl Lieberepine und Grundscheuern
ich bot sie aller Abschied
ihr Gesicht ist angemessen und glatt und fein
ich bin alt und blind
wenn Nacht entlang den Straßen der Stadt treibt
Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
irgendwo las ich eine merkwürdige, alte, rostige Geschichte
Ginghamhund und die Kalikokatze
seit, wenn Sie meine Seite heute bereitstanden

 



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