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poetry poem

vor er war viele und viel einem Jahr
ich starrte den prachtvollen Himmel an
Frau vermißte viel, wie Sie zu mir benennen, Anruf zu mir
weiße Schaumgummiblume, rote Flammeblume
gute Frau
steigender Mond hat die Sterne versteckt
in einem alten Raum beleuchtete weich
von der Sonne noch Sterne
ich weiß nicht wo
weich weinend

 



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