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halloween poem for kid

der Geruch von stieg so falsch, die zutreffenden Dornen so
ruhig mit reverance, im Awe
jetzt fĂĽr einen lebhaften und freundlichen Kampf
wer den Wind nennen wird
er war ein hohes junges oysterman
mit Lippenblut Rot und Herz des Steins
vor er war viele und viel einem Jahr
burly, DösenHumblebiene
Schlaf, grauer Bruder des Todes
ich habe das Rennen gewonnen
ein Himmel, der nie Sonne, Mond oder Sterne gekannt hat

 



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