Lyrik, Prosa, Fotografie, poetisches in Wort und Bild
Es denkt noch immer,
ist nicht mein Platz.
Fühl‘ mich nicht wohl,
in diesem Satz.
Hat mich gesetzt,
wurd‘ nicht gefragt.
Und doch bin ich ’s,
das ihn jetzt plagt.
© Copyright Text Wolfgang Weiland
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