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There was no nuance in the illness,
Once it took hold, it spread quickly;
The attest taken was clear as glass, 
Once diagnosed the results were sickly.

The barren truth was overwhelming,
The temerity she showed was unbelievable;
In truth, I was more panicky than she was,
Yet the consultant said a cure was conceivable.

The aperture which struck my heart was great,
She was not only my wife but a true friend;
It was painful to hear of her unexpected illness,
With this dramatic saga, I hoped for my end. 

My proclivity was that of sustained sorrow,
By the cause of cancer to the bone-marrow.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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Date: 2/12/2019 11:50:00 PM
OUCH! The beautiful thing, is to have now, together. The hard thing, is not to have forever. Say all the things you need to say, and you will have fewer regrets. God Bless You Both! It's a beautiful, sad, sweet poem.
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Date: 2/12/2019 10:14:00 PM
I have always feared cancer. Moving read Martin.
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