“You have cancer, ” my doctor remarked
his words surely shattered what few
windows of opportunity I had left to call my own,
while trumpets sounded, surrounding my every thought
with waves of discontent, and no chance that I repent.
“I have cancer, ” I thought to myself, its
vowels shaped my lips, dry and cracked
speechless, my fears spoke volumes
a book of memoirs, a book without pages
the look of terror, a prison without cages.
“We all have cancer, ” I quickly realized
and it goes by many names:
Fear – rainclouds shroud my gray skies
Anger – bullets that backfire, daggers that cut at
both ends. My hands are bleeding!
Tears of joy, careless and carefree, caressed my
rosy cheeks, my narrow lips, ever widening to
the smile that never was, while I recited those
immortal words: “He had cancer, ”
the angels remarked,
As I fluttered about…free at last!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem