Cancer

The skin,

It hangs,

From his face,

His eyes sunken in,

As he slowly drifts away.

 

His skin,

So pale,

Transparent as light,

His veins are bright,

As he slowly disenigrates.

 

His body,

Is burnt,

Only ashes now,

His skin is charred,

As he is thrown away.

 

His funeral,

Sad,

His mother,

Sad,

His life,

Was taken advantage of,

By cancer,

The disease that never stops.

Author's Note

sorry for being soooo negative lately, CRCT has put me in a depressive mood i guess...

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Cancer is a bad thing. Leave young and old wishing for better. I have known many woman who die of cancer. Just babies learning to live and left so much sad hearts behind. A sad poem with no ending in site. A powerful poem.
Coyote

[A]

Sooo sad! Sadly, this poem is true. Cancer is no bueno! I like how your poem is short but you got your point acorss clearly. Sad but great poem :)