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short poem

es gibt eine Stunde des ruhigen Restes
ich bilde meinen Abschirmrahmen, aber niemand weiß
ich habe die stolzesten Sterne gesehen
schwach-weak-winged Song
singen Sie wieder dem Song Sie gesungen
wenn ihr Haar wild flaying
ruhig mit reverance, im Awe
wenig Gatter wurde schließlich erreicht
durch das Ufer durch das Meer

 



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