Best Cancer Drug Poems

I grew up shooting pool and dancing on the bar
 Mama said with enough buise anyone could be a star
 Daddy was in the back room chasin' skirts
 Mama was in the parking lot dancin' with Mary Jane just to mask the hurt

 I've spent...

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Hold back the hour.
Stop the tears from flowing.
Breathe again untainted air.
Take back my bones, my breasts,
and race forward to passion once more

Hold back the hour,
before the ravaging of every sinew
and fleeting glimpse of salvation, and
forced pity encroached upon my earth

Hold back the hour,
before tested strength
proves...

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Medical Marijuana

Magical Herb, given to this world
can cure so many things, you’d 
never believe it would

from helping a cancer patient
from starving
the positive results from it
are alarming

it gives people
a chance
to alleviate the pain,
stomach aches
even a granny’s arthritis
why would anyone want to
fight this

this beautiful idea of
medical marijuana
limiting...

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Why do you judge others by features
you can only see
Everyone is different
That's the way we are suppose to be

If you think I have wrinkles now
Just wait till I get old
Beauty is all your looking for
I am not a timeless mold

I'll need dentures
With the rest of...

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There's a man I saw just the other day
However I don't know his name
He was of Hispanic decent I know
But we never spoke just the same.
He was talking to his lawyer
That day about his court case
I felt his pain and anguish
As I looked him in...

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Jealousy could be as harmful as a drug...
It chases away all that's close without a hug...

It's an addiction that tears apart all that's good...
A self inflicted wound that spreads like only cancer could...

When life is going well those feelings rain in like a storm...
And it's...

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Her curly hair was long and bright
Until that sad and scary night
The cancer took it all away
Leaving her sick night and day
Doctors, IV’s, get well drugs
Kisses, wishes and tight hugs
Are taking over her life now
Wishing that one day somehow
Her life will be normal again
Going out...

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Shyloch, Shyloch Ye of crippled writers block Howl !
Hipster!  
Survivor of sanatoriums drug riddled needled dreams and cancer lobotomy fantasies!
Drowned out by the apathy of X-Factor modernity!
Shyloch whose machinery sprite faster through chemical brewing!
And welfare states following entitlement scripts that harm!
Shyloch whose crucifix and...

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Wretched working weekend
Friday, Saturday, Sunday,
twelve hour shifts,
praying for Monday.

Noisy nurse's station,
patients pressing call-lights,
you'd think they'd all be resting,
but instead they're up all night.

With their East Texas accents:
"I need hay-elp" patient cries,
always adding syllables,
"I wet my bay-ed," from 545.

One patient's heart rate's 170,
another's is just 40,
and...

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From the time of my youth you have given me people only to take them away.
Leaving me feeling lost and abandoned, like an orphan left all alone.
Just once Lord I would like to be able to know that this one won’t walk out on me.
Or...

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Born stressed here,
Peer pressure, pain, and no rest till next year,
Blowing the smoke in my lungs that my chest fear,
It's a mind thing; the pleasure is a treasure for the brain,
Followers mouth left dryer than the dessert after puffing the toxic fame,
Let me pronounce this...

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LOOK AT EM CRAWLING...

At the old Darreel pub out near Mungindi....
Trapper Joe he rode up, he come from Boggabri...
The DTs were bad with this poor old bugger Jack...
Look at em crawling he did mutter ...
And his rolling eyes were slack....

Joe wandered to a sandhill caught...

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Nineteen years of age, lost amid drugs ? Going nowhere except towards an asylum...
Soon his beautiful child, torn to be tattered ? Like time ripped apart; such abandonment
As downcast eyes left emptied by a world, this place, bent upon sorrows; thus rent these walls 
Their...

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phases pass the day when i was young
i was happy and hate was a feeling unborn
colors where just colors 
fight where with pillows
people had cuddies
drugs were things to stay health 
cigs were candy sticcs 
problems were with parent
death was playin dead
life was full of joy
as...

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Smoking at Ipswich Hospital NHS Trust
By Stanley Russell Harris
The new mad author
& A Poetry Soup honourable mentioned poet

Once I smoked like a trooper.  As that’s what I did be.
Now I do not smoke. As now I’m out of the Army.

Of course, life has its...

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