Cancer

The cherry tree this spring Has forgotten how to bloom And strings of mind (frayed with the strain) Have threatened snapping soon. And when my talking eyes Close shut and cannot speak, My brittle bones and spider veins Will start their hide and seek. The crayons on our new faces Have waxy melted deep, But if I should die before I wake, Do not wake me in my sleep. When bayonets thrust forward Contagious devils caught Just send my letters to the grave As I await Death’s somber knock. Oh Cancer, I’ve become yours It’s true I have succumbed, But it’s not death I’m scared of Because it’s life I’m hiding from.