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The Last Noël
In a bed, she lay
So tired & so frail
Like the room itself
So colourless & pale
At least, through the window
She could see snowflakes dance
Falling in a serenade
To a winter's night romance
Her bed sores burned like hell
In this purgatory of self
A forgotten thing called living
Lay dormant on its shelf
But the snow fell so dreamlike
And wh...
Saturday 21st December 2024 9:19 am
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