My cancer's a Nasty Pasty,
It snook out round the back
And got into my liver, which
It soon put out of whack.
It cooked up lots of mischief
Making many friends.
Together they all trashed the place
Their fun just never ends.
They broke eight ribs in tandem
In a two-pronged snack attack,
Then made a mobile hotspot
Inside my lower back.
From there they're calling all their mates
To come and join the fray.
I'm often left to wonder
What they're going to do today.
They tell me that they'll get me
Somewhere frightening and dark,
Perhaps just when I think I'm safe
They'll knife me in the park.
But I don't care for bullies,
Just as they don't care for me.
I can be bloody-minded
When I'm hiding in a tree.
I'll see if I can muster
All my cunning, wits and gile
And do what Nasty Cancer hates
And stick around a while.
I might be lucky, might be not
Nasty Cancer will then see
It might be that it takes my life
But it WON'T be taking ME.
