Category: ride
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On My Father’s Shoulders
Today, I saw a toddler sitting on his father’s shoulders. It touched my heart to see the glee and the excitement in his eyes. It reminded me of my Dad and the wonderful moments we shared. Fathers are so important. I don’t think western society gives them the love and recognition that they deserve oftentimes.…
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To The Top
From the bottom to the top is a short journey to those who didn’t come along for the ride. Be careful of who you let in the car. Best, Esha
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Surfs Up
Roll with the punches Tread water through the tears Bounce with the sways of laughter Smile through the brevity of complex years Easing into a steady peace That erases the power of fear Yes, in life the unknown is present here Yet time goes on And those weaken by the struggle Often grow strong with…
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Passenger Side
Fear has no place here. It’s the opposite of peaceful. It rides passenger side with the spirit of anxious. Moving without notice because it lacks patience. But many cater to its needs anyway. They dread the night and allow the day to slip away. Afraid of the impending tolls they’ll have to pay… But fear…
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poetry for restoration
Poetry For Restoration Poetry is beautiful In between the lines Are breaths that restore energy The words describe a mood That we can’t explain Repeating the verses like prayers That we rehearse in hopes of memorizing The curves of the letters take us on rides That end with and without periods Exclamation points, question marks…
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VIBE
Vibe My love is on the rise… We riding with the easy breeze. We living on the wild side. We moving like shadows on a stone-cold groove. Enjoying the vibes bestowed by a celebratory mood. Love always, Esha <3
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We Interlock
We Interlock it’s 6:40 am, you call me, i wake up brush my pearly whites, swiftly shower, get dressed, put on my makeup and take notice of the fading shadows outside dash out the front door into the unknown abyss i look back one last time as i hop into your ride i cast my…
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Train Ride
Train Ride the smell of heavy sulfur permeated through the train station’s platform it rises like grey smoke from my Daddy’s hand carved pipe soaked in a color reminiscent to ebony splendor i don’t belong here but i’m here open eyes lock onto me like i have a gift for them but silence…
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