Cancer

in #poetry7 years ago

To you. You will never get to read this and I'm sorry.

I saw you two times,
Both times you looked pitiful.
You looked miserable.

The first time I saw you lying on that bed.
You looked angry at the world,
Angry that it had given you this curse.
This death sentence.
You looked as if you were asking the world
"What did I do"

In truth, I'm sure you did nothing to deserve this.
You were just a person who ended up sick.
Somehow I wonder if you smoked,
If you spent your days doing worldly things.
Or if you were a godly person.
If you knew your heavenly fate,
Or your hellish.

I remember them bringing you your food.
The look on your face...
It will haunt me forever.

It spoke to me,
As if I could read your mind.

It said:
"Should I even try?
It's not as if this would make it go away.
It's not like it would make my death easier"

You looked tired, you know.
So tired.
You couldn't even move your body from the bed.
So young,
Yet so tired.

My 80 year old grandfather was lying in the bed across from you.
He looked vigorous next to you.

And when you looked at me,
Your eyes screamed "help me".
That was the only way I can describe it.

The second time I saw you,
You were lying in bed again,
But this time,
You had a breathing mask over your face.

I was told you couldn't breathe the previous night.
That they couldn't help you fast enough.
You were lying down and looking pitiful,
Helpless
Again.

But, now I knew why.
Because you were dying.
You had cancer.
And I won't ever forget you, unknown stranger.

Hopefully, you won't die as alone,
As you looked.

22/09/2017
An original poem by @janajoubert

This is based off an actual event that I witnessed in the last year. It is solely to make aware of the plight of cancer patients.

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I know the feeling, only to well!

I’m so sorry

This is a great poem, thanks for sharing!

Wow, you could have written this about my late husband. He died from non-smoker's lung cancer. He died with a mask on his face because his lungs had collapsed. It was a terrible, horrible thing. In his last days, what I remember most was the panic in his eyes. I still have nightmares, but for the most part my heart is healing nicely. At the time of his death our children were 7, 5 and 2. Now, 12, 9 and 7. Life goes on...I am remarried, a writer/blogger and doing well. You can read more at choosejoy.co if interested.

This is such a beautiful comment. Thank you for sharing your story with me!