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teen love poem

erinnern sich Sie
wenn ihr Haar wild flaying
kein Opfer sind ich der schlechten Gedanken
Blüten der Babys
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
alle innen und alle ohne mich
Glasbläser der Zeit
aus dem tiefen heraus und die Dunkelheit
neben einem geschlagenen Feld
dieser merkwürdige Begleiter kam auf shuffling Füße
wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er

 



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