Cured Cancer Poem by Foster Teegarden

You don't want serious relations.
That I may be able to live with.
Allow me to give reparations
to help seal up our own little rift.

Promise I will never pester you
once I've gotten this thing off my chest.
I've talked to my crew and to yours too
about what could possibly be best.

They gave many solutions for us,
but which was the accurate answer?
By majority it's to let rust.
Now, to you, I'm just a cured cancer.