Poetry by Aussie

Cancer

Cancer
Just a word
Yet the definition
Of fear

I run aimlessly
Forgetting
For a time

I vent
Frustrated
To the God
On high

“Seventy years
It’s what I get
You’re shorting me
Stealing life
Taking smiles

Putting out
The wick
Too early
When I just
Began”

There’s no use
I’m out
Of breath

An ant
About to be
Squished
By the Great
Clockmaker

Is there Reason
In this mad, mad race?
Is there Purpose
In this evil life of being?

Is there Cause
For lives lived vainly
Hopes never achieved
Dreams never seen?

Is my life
Just a dot
A fading one
On the forgotten
Spectrum of time?

Or is there Hope
In the unseen world
Called Tomorrow?

Is there a God
Who gives a care
A God who came
To bear my pain?

A God to take
Me by the hand
And lead me on
To better days?

Or are my fleeting days
A waste
An emptied pail
That had been full
But now has been
Discarded.

Eighteen Months

“Eighteen months or less
No more than five years at best,”
His words were cold,
It was his job.

He couldn’t cry,
He wasn’t mom.
Just bearer of the news.
And then doc left the room.

I picked up a book
Threw it ‘cross the room
Broke the lamp and more
My rage was hot

I don’t want to die!
Life has just begun.
I’ve got plans to keep,
Even more to make.

So I sobbed and cried,
Then I wailed my head
‘Til my body shook
Smiles were gone.

Life was hard and cruel
Merciless and mad
Flaunting pain and lies
To the grave

Would that God were here
That he’d show him strong
That he’d conquer pain
Sin and death

But that has been done
Just his patience waits
Until more have come
Netted in

So while life leaks on
And it’s here and gone
Dawn is rising now
As time sets.

Aussie's Portfolio

• Poetry
•     Page 1
•     Page 2
•     Page 3
•     Page 4
•     Page 5
•     Page 6
• Art & Photos
• Lord Dyrant's Revenge
• Afterthoughts

About Aussie

Aussie is a regular contributor to Mission FireFly.

I like writing, what can I say? It's not like I can just sit down anytime and do it, though. It's a mood thing. Somedays it comes and somedays it goes. I also like art (more on the modern side) and writing my own songs.

I'm going through some rough hills and valleys in my life right now. I write what I think. Life has its wrestles doesn't it? If your best friend was told they had cancer, what would you think? What, if you were them, would you think then? Just a different perspective.