It grows rapidly within me.
Each day passing is a struggle.
In between the spaces of my voice
Lies a sore soul willing to speak
Not of sorrows and hard times
But of enlightenment and truth.
Do not fret for me my friends
For this isn't the death of me
For I am stronger than this
I was born a fighter
Like a tiger I will, roar!
This sickness isn't going to win
Like Balboa I will rise triumphant
No matter what the costs
No matter what the consequence
This crab among the stars
Will not be my last meal
For I loathe seashell food
It makes me sick to my stomach.
Though I tear my hair from my head
Stressed beyond all doubt
I fight this till the bitter end
I will win!
Post script: This poem was written and inspired by those who fight Cancer. These people are very strong individuals, and deserve all the support they can get. I also am submitting this as a response to Poet's United's Mid-Week Motif about Cancer. Keep fighting the good fight