Cancer The Crab Poem by Mary Champion

We are crabs; you and me,
and we both like to see
a quiet life.
That's why we're made
so we can evade
all the strife.

When they prod us with sticks
and we feel the sharp pricks
we escape to our dark little cell.
Safe in there, we can hide
from the terror outside
and pretend we're in heaven, not hell.

They can rant, they can rage
at the front of the stage,
as we cower in fear in the wings.
We will keep our eyes shut.
We will knot up our gut
as we wait to see what it all brings.

Yes, we're wimps, me and you
and we'd both rather do
bugger all.
We prefer not to fight
even when we are right,
we will crawl.

But although we are prone
to be turned into stone
and to sidestep the battles and wars,
If we're pushed far enough
we may sometimes play rough.
We don't only have shells, we have
claws.

Tormentors beware -
you'd better take care
who you goad
Cos you can't always tell;
there are times when a shell
will explode!