Cancer Ward
Hideous cancer chisels away
With strange tragic sculpturing
And exposes dark flaws
heavy and black:
Inoperable, they say.
Ever present cigarette
Tenaciously supported
By shaking hand
and unfaltering need
Moved toward fried death
As wrenching cough spewed
Fire in weakened lungs.
A machine by the bed
Connected to tubes,
She wavers between
Sleep and reality
Fighting to hear
The voices around her.
Copyright © Charlotte Zuzak | Year Posted 2005
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