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Last night

Writer: Nigel SmithNigel Smith





Last night my friend and I

died a little death, I thought

it would be glorious, it was not;


strange to feel sadness sharp,

like a dagger, I thought its pain

akin to blunt trauma;


there were no wrongs to right, nor

law to judge, and though a little death,

its wound was still fatal;


for without strike, stab or blow,

it managed to kill love itself.*


*the ability to love




4 comentários


Stephen Kingsnorth
Stephen Kingsnorth
22 de jan. de 2024

I find this too vulnerable, in a personal and universal sense, to warrant comment.

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Alison Blevins
Alison Blevins
21 de jan. de 2024

I think this is becoming one of my favourite poems. Thank you Nige.

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Membro desconhecido
15 de jan. de 2024

Oooh I like that. - Le petit mort - Great stuff

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Nigel Smith
Nigel Smith
15 de jan. de 2024
Respondendo a

Thank you Martin, desire or true love? That is so very simplistic to me, something to ponder and debate into the wee hours I think..


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