Cookies are eaten
Milk stains left on the carpet
But no presents here.
Snowflakes are falling
The quiet sound of winter
Hushed breaths of cold air
The smell of pine trees
Fallen sentinels lay still
Time to decorate
Presents are waiting
Eager hands wanting to tear
Work gone in seconds
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Kelsey's art and poems
I'll use this to post my poetry and art
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What makes a monster?
