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Sunday, February 1, 2015


On your bosom of matted hair
Dark and rough, like of a bear,
I lay awake, my mind astray
Shall sleep come my way?

With every beat of your heart,
I think of those dear, near and far,
Like a wicked witch's curse,
they don't vanish, don't disperse.

I watch you sleep so soundly,
Dreaming about me, maybe.
If only this sleep could be mine,
Shall peace come to a restless mind.

I toss, I turn, I move over,
This ain't a nightmare
There's no fear,
Why then in my head
are there voices I hear?

- Eisha

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