J
literature

Jahresreimer - Der Versteckhut

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By RetSamys   |   Watch
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Published: June 3, 2015
Jahresschreiber (3/52): Verstecken
Der Versteckhut

Wo ist er nur, mein Lieblingshut?
Wo hat er sich versteckt?
Ob er sich's wohl gemütlich tut
Und völlig zugedreckt
Irgendwann nach Hause kehrt?
Letztes mal gefunden
Hab' ich ihn auf einem Pferd.
Er war ziemlich zerschunden.

Das Mal davor, da hatt' er sich
Versteckt vor mir für Wochen
Und ganz bestimmt ganz absichtlich
Im Dachboden verkrochen.

Ich hatt' ihn sogar angebunden
Mit einer festen Schnur.
Trotzdem war er dann verschwunden.
Wie macht er das denn nur?

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Jahresschreiber (3/52): Verstecken

Jahresschreiber (3/52): Verstecken by RetSamys

Die Jahresschreiber ist ein Schreib-Challenge, mit dem man sich ein ganzes Jahr lang jede Woche zum Schreiben bringen kann. Auf dem Blog der Lesenische erscheint jeden Mittwochmorgen ein neues Thema, bis die 52 Wochen abgelaufen sind.

Die gesammelten 52 Werke werde ich später zusammen veröffentlichen, die (etwas) besseren Ergebnisse lade ich extra hoch.
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If you can hold your drink when all about you are losing theirs and aiming it at you, if you can drive your car when all men doubt you, but make allowance for the coppers too; or need to pee but not be tired by waiting, or after peeing don’t forget your flies; on politics or football start debating and yet don’t look too good nor talk too wise. If you can drink and not make drink your master; if you can talk – and not make sense your aim; if you can still stand up although you’re plastered and shout at passing women dirty names; if you can bear to hear the truth tomorrow of how you acted like a total fool and
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Georgie Porgie threw an orgy      just outside L.A., where Jack Be Nimble grabbed his thimble,      outing him as gay... Little Jack Horner bought Time Warner      before the bubble burst, though Jumping Jack Flash saw the crash      and liquidated first... Jack said Jill was taking the Pill      to ward off impregnation; the Three Blind Mice have lobbied twice      for victim's compensation... Little Miss Muffet had her tuffet      liposuctioned out, and L
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The toilet seat's still up, and the covers aren't turned down. My forehead's always wrinkled in a forty-year-old frown. And last year, for my birthday, you bought me anti-aging cream. I wouldn't have been offended if it wasn't my nineteenth. You underanalyse every little thing I say - "I just don't want to talk right now" means "Baby, won't you stay?" You squeeze your daily toothpaste from the middle of the tube And your idea of romance is comparing Chelsea to my boobs. Of course, I should be pleased - for it's every woman's dream To rate so high that they're compared to a winning football team. I swear, with one more 'compliment',
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