I wroted this for the 'Warped' group, but, since I haven't done much writing (any writing, actually, other than one 300-word thing) this year, I may as well preserve it for posterity.
If ... (the crabby remix)
If you’ve been told you’ve cancer in your innards
You’re faced with problems totally unknown
You don’t know if you’ll live, or die, and nobody
Can help; you have to face it on your own
You start a round of which humiliation’s
The least of problems, set against your lot
Of care and fear; of fighting with the doctors
Who treat you without saying why or what
You reassure your friends, your loved ones,
Family: it’s bad enough they’re seeing you this way
Don’t frighten them, or say how bad the nights are
Too much, too scary – will they run away?
In all of this, there is one consolation
You’re not alone: you’ve joined a special band
It’s not a group you want to join for pleasure
But once you’ve joined it, people understand
Warped people, who will not let cancer beat them
Whose weapons include humour, love and hope
And saying ‘fuck’ a lot’, and simply caring
All those things help; and somehow you can cope
You cry sometimes, because you’re only human
You spend your hours frightened and in pain
It wears you down. But when the tears are over
You come back fighting time and time again
Cancer’s a bully: mean, and sick, and spiteful
But stand your ground, whatever comes to pass
Stick with your friends, keep faith, and keep on smiling
Together, we’ll kick cancer up the arse.
