A Conversation With Cancer


“ A half empty cup can never be full
To hear a pessimist is quite optimistic
For many feel insane that they are loosing control
Of the feelings caught in the seams of their smiles

Others can feel a similar shudder,
Knowing that pain can never go away
For its memory is constantly intact
Spiking and pricking
In the threads of the blaze of reflections

The countenance of a climax is rarely a glow
The concoction that stress and pressure subdues is erratic—
And crazily it is the drug that most crave.

Most pined for feeling,
Surreptitiously smashing the dreams of the illness
I grin half a smile and drink
from the chalice I hide with my scheming
Breaking the rule of stereotypes alike
And forever living in a luxe era of fortitude. “
The Victim:

“ He sits in my backyard.
Fat, round, taking lives like they’re candy
Hushing voices like a mute button
Stealing time like a plague

Yes he thinks he’s a winner
Constantly growing stronger,
A fighter,
But the coward he is makes him hesitate this long

No, the champion is you, her, him, me
We stand up and face this insidious trial
Keep revolting, supporting, accepting the aid
Against a greedy life-sucker who’s out of his place

We rise to the game he’s created for pleasure
For consumption of pain and breath all the same,
We kill off lost time cell by cell, drip by drip

He sits mouth agape ugly dumbfounded
At the Courage and Faith that Love helps us have
At the fact that he lost the game he created
Dead as the doorknob to the oncology room. ”