I Hate Fucking Cancer

 

I Hate Fucking Cancer

 

I hate you fucking cancer

A riddle without an answer

 

It brings you to your knees

This faceless cold disease

 

Before I ever knew you

Like Cohen’s Hallelujhah

 

“Cancer” Nice to meet you.

I know we’ll never beat you

 

Be clear you weren’t invited

Your wrong cannot be righted

 

You’re just some poor freelancer

I hate you fucking cancer

 

Dad got an MRI

It doesn’t answer why

 

They wave a magic stick

To tell us dad is sick

 

My father starts to shiver

They scan his well-used liver

 

Confirmed that dirty rumour

That he might have a tumour

 

The system solved the guess

The answer now is yes

 

I fucking hate the answer

My father now has cancer

 

Will dad make eighty-eight

He plays the sit and wait

 

With every new appointment

We get a pill and ointment

 

It doesn’t solve the issue

I pass the box of tissue

 

Did Rudolph dislike Prancer?

Like I hate fucking Cancer

 

Friends share their own stories

Of loss with brunch at Corry’s

 

Comfort, each means well

Prepares us for our hell

 

Everybody mentions

Their fear with good intentions

 

Another loss of life

Father, husband, wife.

 

Their pain is our enhancer

I hate you fucking cancer.

 

The outcome’s getting foggy

The chemo makes dad groggy

 

When cold he wears a sweater

Things aren’t getting better

 

Not too long ago

My dad could steal the show

 

A singer and a dancer

I hate this fucking cancer

 

Oncologists assure

A treatment not a cure

 

Dad’s high spirits mimic

Hope at every clinic

 

New expensive pills

Managing the bills

 

Consult with his financer

I hate fucking cancer.

 

I really hate to bother

To those who’ve lost their father

 

Your pain I’ve never felt

But new cards have been dealt

 

In youth my dad was cool

He never lost a duel

 

A swashbuckling Lancer

I Fucking hate his cancer

 

We all have learned to deal

Tell loved ones how we feel

 

As things get sort of rough

Don’t share the words enough

 

Before it gets too late

Must rise above this hate

 

When asked what will I answer?

Love you dad … fuck you cancer!

Cue the Blong