And through the door
into the world of the unknown
we all watched cancer unfold
and grow.

Through hidden tears,
silent prayers filled
a room that’s empty,
with no one sitting in.

Within the turmoil, the mind spins
The world goes round and nothing stands still.
As the body gets amputated and hair thins
Faces wrinkle and hope grows slim.

Four seasons fast-forward in time
Fresh grass pushes through grime
spring asserts that winter’s gone
allowing the chimes to announce a new dawn.

The hair comes back,
the skin lights up
and hopes grow fast.

Yet some signs remain and never go,
A fallen rose with petals that do not grow.
That won’t come back
That will just stay black.

So all that’s left apart from newly found hope
And imposed regimes to cope
Is a faded memory of a normal life once had
And thoughts for others who missed that chance.