Miss Nightingale - Potd
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In the flickering light of the lamp,
Despite the chilly night, air so damp,
She surveyed books so avidly read,
Studied the guidelines now in her head.
Time came: she departed for the war,
Sure she'd care for all those wounded sore.
Many followed as she left her stamp,
At night she'd be the lady with the lamp.
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2023
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