Cancer; a Poem
Uncle George
I want to kick and punch and wail and shout; Cancer you nasty bastard, GET OUT!
My Uncle may be dying you say? I'm not ready to let him go away!
How do you learn to say goodbye, I'm only able to stand and cry.
I want to kick and punch and wail and shout; Cancer you nasty bastard, GET OUT!
Uncle, father, lover, friend, he smiles and comforts us even towards the end;
Although he can hardly even talk, and no way begin to get up and walk,
You tell him you love him, he gives a frown, even now he is still the clown!
Uncle, father, lover friend, he smiles and comforts us even towards the end.
Fifty-six years he's kept his wife, they've been together most all her life.
Gently she sits and holds his hand, her husband, best friend, this gentle man;
Confusion mars her tender face, how did we get here to this grim place?
Fifty-six years he's kept his wife, they've been together most all her life.
His daughter is this mans biggest fan, It's to his arms she's most often ran.
She visits him every single day, this vigil is hers we must let her stay.
Daughters are a blessing we know it's true, he'd be the first to tell this too,
His daughter is this mans biggest fan, It's to his arms she's most often ran.
It's not for him we sit and cry, he's not the reason tears fill our eye,
We're crying for us, our loss and pain, What we lose is Heavens' great gain.
The angels go forward preparing his place, God Himself can't wait to see uncles face,
It's not for him we sit and cry, he's not the reason tears fill our eye.
But until he goes we'll enjoy our time, Visiting, laughing, writing this rhyme.
Remembering all the good we shared, letting him know how much we cared.
Trying to fit in as much as we can, until at the last the race is ran.
But until he goes we'll enjoy our time, visiting, laughing, writing this rhyme.
I want to kick and punch and wail and shout; Cancer you nasty bastard, GET OUT!
My Uncle may be dying you say? I'm not ready to let him go away!
How do you learn to say goodbye, I'm only able to stand and cry.
I want to kick and punch and wail and shout; Cancer you nasty bastard, GET OUT!
.
