Thanks Fia.

This was actually the last ever poem she wrote before the morphine, methadone and chemo took hold of her skull. She was very popular in DU. The truth lies on her death bed and with her children – but as I scribbled in the summary, deluded narratives prevented you all to say a proper goodbye. A huge fucking shame and shameful.

Thank you. All plaudits to the author, who sadly, was taken way too young.

sorry to read of your son. addiction is a cruel bitch. life is very fragile, so it’s important to cherish every sunset etc

That true Fia.

Thanks Mark. Appreciated.

To the outside world, she had it all. Caring husband, beautiful kids and a good career, but who knows what goes on within the skull? She wrote too, and in hindsight, there were the most portentous of clues. But therein lies another problem. So easy to blah, blah and bullshit within a word circus. I totally concur – hope sits beyond even the darkest midnight.

Thanks Fia. To be totally candid, it’s a bloody awful bit of poetry.

They only let me eat with a spoon – no knives or forks in sight. Knife crime is off the scale over here and it’s utterly depressing. Teenage gangs. This poem just doesn’t convey what I really wished to convey / articulate and the xmas metaphor doesn’t work.