Cancer Ivy

It’s not too often that a person knows a bad thing is inside them, and too late sometimes they realize that cancer grows. It grows like poison ivy, and one’s fate depends on many factors. One is time. How far along is cancer when it’s found? How fast and high that demon likes to climb. I wish that we could stomp it on the ground - to not just flatten it, but take it by the roots and yank it out forevermore. When cancer comes, you’ll sit and sadly cry. To know it’s in you cuts you to the core. I know because it grew in me one day, and never are you sure it’s gone away . . . For the Cancer Ivy Poetry Contest of Chantelle Anne Cooke