Thanks, Cancer.

When I was young, 

People walked the streets, taking life for granted.

But when you know you’re going to die, 

You cherish every moment you have left. 

 

When I look down from my hospital bed, I still see them,

Those people passing through the day, not knowing.

Even when they visit with pitiful eyes,

the unknown is still with them.

 

People look at the world so carelessly.

Like smokers choosing to light a cigarette 

Or people deciding to pull the trigger,

Neither considering the consequences.   

 

The worst part isn’t the chemo,

it’s the fact I’m leaving my loved ones here;

depressed, lonely, confused; there's nothing I can do.

This world just keeps going. With or without me.

 

And one day life will hit you too. 

So grab your IV and hold on to your wig

because, when you take things for granted,

the things you are granted will eventually be taken.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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