4 am

you’re adrift barely breathing you’re sleeping but your ghosts are lurking although draped in slumber in your head you’re wide awake… For 4 am, is the hour to sire fresh dreams to leave behind all that couldn’t be… For 4 am, is a new bend those haunts need to rest the voices better wait they…

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The Morning after Christmas: A Poem by Asha Seth

The lights on the tree shone yellow and bright and smiled cheerfully as the parents hid the Xmas gifts with secret strides ЁЯОД The night before the children were exuberant after all, it was time for wishes laid upon the heart of SantaтАЩs pride ЁЯОД Chloe and Bryan slept how peacefully knowing Santa riding around…

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