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best friend poem

der Blitz blitzte und hob an
die Schwärzung
singen Sie wieder dem Song Sie gesungen
unter dem Erntemond
nicht von der breiten Welt des Ganzen
die alten Songs
ich sah die Wolken unter den Hügeln
lassen Sie mich traurig sein
Sitzen in seinem Schalthebel, der Ihren Tee wartet
Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist
gloom

 



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