The 'C' Word Poem by Eliza Booth

Have you heard of the C word?
It's used a lot these days,
One in four and fifty percent
Survival chances, the research says.

Have ever actually spoken the C word?
Not in discussion or for conversational means,
But because you were counting the days and the months
that it's no longer present in their genes.

See now that's why I hate the C word,
Affects people in ways you can't perceive,
For the patient it's facing the possibility of death,
And the dreams they never had chance to achieve.

But maybe that's not the problem with the C word,
Maybe it's the fear, the survival battle, no peace,
Because we as a species, are scared of a word
that can end life before we expect it to cease.

And yet there I've generalised the C word,
I mean, it's not exactly set in stone,
Over two hundred different varieties,
That could range from terminal to curable to unknown.

So to explain you the meaning of the C word,
A dreaded disease with no real cause to answer,
The question never that drips off anyone's lips,
Are we afraid of a word, not the cancer?