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slam poetry

da ich der Richtung des Todes geglaubt habe
einmal dieser weiche Rasen
in die Dunkelheit und Frieden meinem abschließenden Betts
die Wiese kroch
drehen Sie mich unten durch die Wiese
unter den Bergen wandered ich
ein Schimmer des Goldes in gloom und Grau
oben auslösen, unten fallend

 



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