Cancer
. . . it’s me.
Come later
when my life
is more complete.
Let me see wrinkles
so deep
and skin
so thin
from elasticity gone.
I beg you,
stop
the lassitude,
the pain
Cancer . . . it’s me.
Let me see
my children grow
to be adults,
to be on their own,
that’s all I want.
Death too soon
is death unfair.
It takes from me
and from them,
too.
Memories missing,
pages empty,
lost to me,
by your bombardment,
hard to bear.
Cancer
. . . it’s me.
Stop this game you play,
out-smarting, outwitting, out maneuvering
us all.
Unfurl your madness
unfurl your mystery
so others will know
and early steps into the darkness
will cease
because your dress
will finally look different
than other dancers
and my body
will see you
and take back what is mine.
Scans show your control,
reveal your destruction.
reveal your destruction.
Each day
you grow.
Each day
I slow.
Cancer
. . . it’s me.
Stop hurting.
Stop growing.
Stop taking.
Stop stealing
my time.
Rationalization of death
does not exist.
No lessons learned.
Tragedy defines
my one day forgotten life!
Cancer . . . it’s me.