Dedicated to my Dad who lost his short battle w/ Colon Cancer on June 18,2013
I hate you Cancer
Your vile evil and cruel
You don't care who you hurt
I'll never forget that day
I'll always hate you for it
Your heartless Cancer
You took someone important from me
Someone important from others too
Took people who didn't belong to you
I hate you for it
You disgust me Cancer
You had no right to take him from me
He mattered more than my very own life
I hate you for taking my Daddy
I hate you for taking others too
I hate you with a passion Cancer
You took part of my heart with him
You took part of my soul that day too
I hate you for it
I hate you I hate you I hate you
I hate you with every fiber of my being
Go back to Hell where you belong
I hate you, others hate you
Your not welcome or wanted here Cancer
I hate you more than his doctor's
I hate you more than God
I hope I get to witness that day
Witness the day you fall
And you will fall Cancer
You're gonna lose the battle one day Cancer
I'm gonna laugh and dance around your grave
You'll finally get what you deserve
And you'll never be able to take another soul
Sabrina Niday Hansel
Placed 8th in Poet Destroyer A's 2013 "PINKTOBER" Contest
Please Support a Cure for Colon Cancer & every other type!
Children with an illness,
Go through life,
They are looked down apon,
Because they are different,
When really they are not,
They are no different from you and me,
They have the same blood,
Running through their bodies,
Just as their hearts as well,
So, don't just look apon,
Their outer appearance,
And judge them,
For who they really are,
For a lot of them,
Are smarter and brighter,
Than you and I,
Could possibly be,
On our brightest day,
For they have the gifts,
From God up above,
So, always take the time,
To get to know their inner beauty,
For who they really are,
Cause they too need love,
Just as everyone else does,
If not even more.
Miracles and Miseries
The world resolved itself back into focus
As I lay amid the swarm of monitors
Still gulping the sword that brought me breath.
The worst now past
Many small miseries remained,
Chief among them the continuing mystery
Of my flooded, struggling lungs.
Finally I breathe well enough for the sword to be removed,
But the tests go on and on
The birth of each day bearing forth
Its own fresh indignity.
They give up guessing and haul me down again
To be opened anew and read for signs.
On the day this is done
The invisible agents of death outside
Decide to mock their pursuers
By leaving a tarot card at that day's shooting site.
They chose the Death card, of course
Revealing how little those
Who choose to play God games really know
About the mystical.
Dreaming of omnipotence through dealing death
The unseen assassins miss their own meaning;
For this card signals change, the ending of present things.
They have unwittingly declared their game will soon be over,
Predicting their own demise.
Meanwhile the doctors make their own spread of me
And come up blank again.
Once more I return to I.C.U.,
Held together with staples.
Once more the little agonies ensue:
The sitting, the turning, the testing.
By night they come for my blood.
By day they come for tests.
Always, in the background, the quiet moanings
Of we, the damned, condemned to medical Limbo
Roll on with the blind passage of hours and days.
The English nurse comes, all brightness and bubble
To heave my fragile self about;
She's a welcome break in the monotony
As my sustainers come and go.
Again the busy bedside conferences
And again the final admission
That all their probings have led down blind alleys.
A last-ditch effort is finally proposed:
Direct drainage of the drowning lungs.
To them this seems as a grasping at straws,
But to me it seems the one sensible solution,
And I look forward to it eagerly.
My inner mantra of "This too shall pass"
Is wearing thin.
Like a Christian martyr of old,
They pierce my back with their lance,
And the sea within that is drowning me
Finds its way out.
As the noxious waters within rush out,
Air surges into my grateful lungs.
From this moment, recovery becomes the new reality.
As I recover,
Indiscretion leads to capture
Of the unseen terrormakers.
To the astonishment of all,
They prove to be a dignified looking black man
And his enthralled protege' -
No prior convictions, no history of trouble
Attached to them at all.
This is how our modern Destroyers come calling.
Well dressed, well spoken models of propriety.
Oh, cast be down thy sin'
These evil thought's
Concerning the sin around
For the evil that
The devil doth found
Is the Devil's due
And this the devil do must
Yet, can not be found
And this he doe's to you
Of the demon world
He accent's you see
He will cast your Soul
With loathe, doubt
Say ye not live again
He will strewn you about
And then cast you out
He will sequestrater your
Sin from with-in and without
Ye shall become the scourge
Of all men
Only to be set a cast
Into the Devil's Den
I did not find myself to be so important
So I ask my friends do I seem distant?
When I ask the question I had received an answer, Yes
So I think that made it clear that I had been not the best
I am a friend of a friend that talks so many things
That friend talks to much it is insane and insanity it brings
I do care, about my friends they are all good people
They tend to stand on their high steeple
Today I find myself not so aware
Disbanding my fear of regret and care
Walking many different paths I see that I have found holes
It is the path that people choose to use to fuel their rage with coals
Coals are partially burnt wood or fossils a piece of fuel
It is the source of burden and fire a rage of emotions that stands cruel
It can be warm and caring, but it also can be baring
I just start to feel so low, below the ground I keep on staring
I reach for my friends so many times I feel so ignorant at times
Just once I feel I should not rely on them when feeling I can not find
I dig my hole deeper and I can not climb out
For some reason I am just full of doubt
I care about so many things and what I have is confusion
One person should be all I should think about to get out of that illusion
My battle in my heart and mind is not at all so pleasant
I feel so alone in an island that is shaped like a crescent
My emotions is like coinciding with a diameter of the semicircle
Not a full emotion that is complete like a circle
My feelings is circular full of incomplete thoughts, so much deeper
I feel it will wake up my evil half a evil soul that is a sleeper
What question should I ask myself? to believe that I am not so alone
As I feel like a person who is deteriorating to the bone
I ask my friends the same question once again
I figure I should do it, to know what kind of feelings I should end
So many thoughts that come out of my feeling
I feel like my friends take, an emotional trauma of stealing
They ask me questions and I answer theirs
But when I need mine answered I feel burning inside like a flare
Are they even friends when they do not take me serious in anyway
Just put me in my hole cause I feel nothing in their will be getting in my way
It's just so simple to answer someones problem
I answer friends with beauty of a rose, but when they answer mine I get the stem
I know the stem is very important in life, with out it how can a rose be a rose
With a hole to put the root and stem in how can it grow
The words we speak I guess is like all natural things we reap and sow