Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

Diagnosis' free floating through re circulated air.
Sunken eyes, bald heads, aching bodies sit in chairs meant for comfort.
The scent of fear mingling with sickness and the faint tinge of hope.
Bodies having been pushed to the limits yet still going on.
Idle chit chat never made.
Deep conversations circling around a common denominator.
The dreaded "C" word.
My own story locked tight between pursed lips.
My eyes downcast, having heard these similar tales many times before.
My own condition hits hard as I settle in my own chair.
Knowing I have my own tumors that reside deep in my bones.
My medications at home lined on the counter,
Soldiers ready for the battle to stunt growth...
To help intravenous drugs freeze my illness.
To put it to sleep as if a fussy child.
My own prayers silently whispered...
Sleep needs to come and overtake these tumors.
My deepest fears long realized, long ago accepted.
Knowing that as sleep ever so slowly folds itself
Around my tumors the inevitable will happen.
Just as a fussy child fights sleep and once gives in
Rests deeply and peacefully...
As the child will awaken my tumors will awaken and then spread.
Most of these others here have cures.
I have the inevitable.
But I too have hopes.
I still have dreams.
I long for tomorrows held out of my grasp.
Battling for mental and physical strength to just push on.
To not give into the doubts and fears.
To know that I'm here for a reason.
May not be for the common good of mankind, but something.
My tumor talk spreads as words on paper,
Not floating on currents of air or streams of blood.
My tumor talk once written can now begin my legacy of passed on hope.
Of being here to witness tomorrows that blessedly,
Have been put in my hands and those of others.

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