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It has no respect, this thing that crawls into our lives
It's aggression is matched only by its rapacity, thus it survives
It steals that which is most precious and allows those who remain
to ponder its savagery, its cold calculation, its treachery
And as we fall to the floor, broken souls among the debris of our emotions
Its searing touch questions our faith and dilutes our devotions
It takes all and gives no quarter
Its caprice unfettered by remorse, conscience or morality
It takes everything a person is or ever will be
It seeks only destruction and as it grows, it devastates
Indifferent to the feelings of impotence and sadness it creates
And how it thrives on our loathing and fear
as we witness the attrition of those we hold dear
Unwanted, uninvited, yet still it comes
Mothers. fathers, daughters and sons
All fall prey to its insidious summons -
Hindu, Buddhist, Sikh and Muslim
Christian, Mormon, Quaker, Witness
To make a folly of personal fitness
Infirm, athletic, old or young
may feel the growth, see the shade on the lung
We deny it, hide from it and take comfort in our imagined exemption
But let us not forget its most evil trait
the ability to be indiscriminate.
Footnote:
My mother died in January 2002, the result of medical complications brought on by a malignant tumour on one of her kidneys. If she had ever smoked, it was not during the last 57 years. Cancer has also claimed the life of Tony - the Best Man at my wedding - and in 2004, my old friend Trevor, a colleague from my newspaper printing days, was gone within two months of diagnosis. A recent survey (although I place little faith in surveys and do not easily believe everything I read) suggests that one in three adults will encounter some kind of cancer-related illness during their lifetime.
Kevin Wells
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