My Auschwitz
Soft-hearted I am but
Established own Auschwitz
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Fear of the eyes
What would have had happened?
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Crown
I always was against one head-wear.
That is called: a “Crown”
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Fish Bride
My Dad whom I respect
Though gone long, it’s always
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Still crazy
Of the war, Second One
I read an article:
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Her salt
Like two lines of bitumen
Black, thin and separated
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