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teacher poem

lieben Sie mich schließlich oder, wenn Sie nicht werden
erklären Sie mir
weich weinend
entlang einem River-side
Nacht ist dunkel und die Winterwinde
lassen Sie hören
weich als das Bett in der Masse
der Geruch von stieg so falsch, die zutreffenden Dornen so
ich wundere manchmal, mich wenn es wirklich zutreffend ist
Ruhe als die zweiter Sommer
unter dusky Lorbeerblatt

 



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