Poetry paints life, cancer takes it
Poetry means it, cancer fakes it
Cancer can not write, create,
Feel or think, illuminate,
Wipe your brow, commiserate
You’re fucking rubbish, you are, cancer
Not a writer, player, dancer
Bring nothing useful to the table
Can’t tell a joke ‘cos you’re not able
Poetry can’t kill cancer, true
As that is medicine’s job to do
But it can cheer as cancer dies
Laugh in lines when cancer cries
Tell the truth when cancer lies
Take confession of cancer’s sins
Speak your grief when cancer wins
Poetry can be frightening too
Poetry can unsettle you
Verse inspires but tumours don’t
Poetry prevails but cancer won’t
