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 🎄 The night before the children were exuberant after all, it was time for wishes laid upon the heart of Santa’s pride 🎄 Chloe and Bryan slept how peacefully knowing Santa riding around…

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