How I remember the waiting room,
at my Daddy's oncologist's office-
If being eaten alive by cancer isn't enough-
The waiting room is full of old boring, dated
magazines in stages of disarray.
It smells like chemicals and fear,
and it looks deadly real.
Ugly pictures of a fisherman caught
in a raging nor' easter. Truly not a
well thought out metaphor, if I do
say so myself. The anti-cancer drugs
make the pale and weak thirsty,
not a water cooler in sight.
Daddy, how can you trust this
man with your life?
He's a supreme failure in keeping
his waiting room off life support.
You could easily give up
and die in this office.
It sucks the dim light from
your cancer ridden
bones, while you read
about Brad and Jen's
divorce from what
is now your past life.
The one before cancer.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Cancer by Robin Bennett )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Under The Moonlit Nights, I Think of Kis.., Bijay Kant Dubey
- The Poet Is A Liar, A Great Liar, You Ma.., Bijay Kant Dubey
- A Poet, Chris Newton
- Insomnia, petra pen
- "The Rest of My Life.", Aaron Waingrow
- La forme a conséquence, douglas scotney
- How Suicide Works 2, C Jay Caputo
- Eid Mubarak, Nasarudheen.P. Parameswaran
- My Feet, Randy McClave
- We Are Scottish, Randy McClave