Desperarte with myself
the sun is hardly getting through the clouds
my heart is heavy just now.
Work will not work out for me
so that I am close to kill myself
Joy keeps me going.
Soon all the trouble will be over
I am leaving and all the rest has to stay
to be further tormented here.
Knocking at the cupboard, oh Jesus!
Down falls a lot of dirt.
A Wiesel!
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