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On a first reading it might appear that this a pessimistic poem about what
poetry can't do, rather than what it can. It's really powerful and menacing
and leaves you with a sense of futility. Until you ask yourself what it is
poetry can be expected to do- of course death still smirks. In itself a
poem is nothing. It's what it does to us that counts. It is we who can stop
wars- not the poem.
linda mcmahon from United Kingdom