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best friend poem

dieses Jahr
es gibt eine Stunde des ruhigen Restes
dunkel-eyed
Schlaf, grauer Bruder des Todes
in der LageSEIN, jede Seite jeder Frage zu sehen
diese alte silberne Schüssel von meinen
warum die Sachen sind, die keinen Tod haben
die Sterne fielen vom Himmel
wenn Freiheit von ihrer Gebirgshöhe
ich weiß, was Sie sagen werden

 



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