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angel poem

hören Sie
denken Sie, mein Junge, wenn ich meine Arme um Sie setze
sind sie traurig, die nicht Liebe kennen
ich mag es
herauf von die Wiesen reich mit Mais
fällt hier kein Licht
sie sprengte fierce Wein
das Swanbestehen
ich bilde meinen Abschirmrahmen, aber niemand weiß

 



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