| |
It's killing you softly,
You don't even know,
It's somewhere in side you,
And it's starting to grow.
Then comes the day,
When you find it out,
The mass is cancer,
There's no doubt.
Maybe they'll catch it,
Before it's too late,
There's a chance they can cure you,
But for now you must wait.
The doctor says,
The odds are good,
With Chemo Treatments,
Get well, you should.
The coming months,
They're far from fun,
The pain and nausea,
And Drugs by the ton.
You've never been,
So full of fright,
The worrisome questions,
Your mind plays at night.
Will my wife become a widow?
It just makes me feel so bad,
Will I live to see the day,
That my son becomes a dad?
Who will walk her down the I'll,
If her daddy can't be there?
The wedding of his baby girl,
To miss would not be fare.
Will I grow old beside my wife?
And live to 84?
Will I get to be a Grandpa?
Or will I leave long before.
I guess for now,
We'll hope and pray,
That in the end,
He'll be okay.
And the only thing,
That I can say,
Is face the struggles,
Day by day.
There's just one thing,
That gets me through,
My family's love,
So strong and true.
And no matter what the outcome,
It helps to know they're there,
To make me smile and ease my pain,
To show how much they care.
Ashley Seymour
| Submitted Date |
: |
Wednesday, October 29, 2008 |
|
|
Poets
