The Ultimate Incurable Disease Poem by Robert J Meyer

We live in hope, or so we say,
As we pass through each dawning day.
And yet we shake our heads and curse
When obstacles make us reverse.

We try our hands against the world
We raise our bets until we fold.
Occasionally our toes are curled
When we win a pot before we’re old.

But in the end we’ll never win
When death we face, the final sin.
So hope is viral and finally fatal
Until another human life is natal.