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Immune

Body,

I can feel it failing, 

I can feel my lymph nodes swell.

There is light, 

But I don't want the flashing lights of an ambulance, 

Words are powerful, 

As the washing machine stops, the coffee is drunk, the clean clothes are hung. 

When the Cops turn up, I want to say to them can you reach that light bulb, can you reach that ladder, 

My landlord has cancer too, 

Through his bones, through his  back, 

I cough because there's a leak in the roof, they think it's corona virus, but it's not, 

I want another test, 

But I put it off, 

Afraid of results, 

At least the washing I hang 

 

 

 

◄ Light.

Truth ►

Comments

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Shifa Maqba

Tue 23rd Jun 2020 05:30

The kind of poetry that keeps you awake at night. Dark, powerful and melancholic! It's difficult to make a disease/an ailment the muse of of a poetry, but you've handled it with both fragility and brutal honesty, it's commendable!

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M.C. Newberry

Mon 22nd Jun 2020 14:27

Powerful and touching. My family has its knowledge of cancer and
it is an ongoing experience. The body is a marvellous "machine" that sometimes needs 24/7 maintenance from the food (fuel) it uses and
the care required in keeping it running. Diet is an underrated aspect
and today's choice in what we eat is not always anti-cancer...often
the opposite, in fact - feeding the disease instead. Along with
measured exercise and appropriate rest/recovery, what we take in
for its fuel is far more important that most of us realise.
Stay positive!

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