I have learned, over time,
that with cancer there really is
no such thing as remission.
There is a moment or so when it pauses,
goes on R&R, perhaps,
regroups to gather strength again,
and then it comes back,
somewhere,
with a savage vengeance
and rips your world all to hell.
And at that point there is damn little
that can be done to fight it.
Too many friends, too many relatives,
too many visits to see them
(which was painful to do) in the hospital...
too many times I stood at gravesides
while a member of the clergy said words
that were meant to comfort the living
(but didn't, really),
and it just makes me angry
because it also makes me feel
so damned useless
and unable to do anything
to make anything better.
I have stopped hospital visits,
funeral home visits,
graveside services.
I can't take them any more.
They just hurt too damn much.

Tweet

Comments on this poem/writing:

Click here to read other Poems by Shiloh

Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved.   No part of this website, including all pictures and written words,  may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without  permission of the original author of the work.  All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner.  All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: dreamer@dreamersreality.com  so the proper person may be notified.