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Chemos
Poems
A Note to Teens with Cancer
In Memoriam
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Final Note
STARBRIGHT
All about me
My Slambook
Stories about cancer
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| Poems |
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| Poems written by Teens with Cancer |
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| This is a touching collection of poems that kids with cancer have written. If you want to see your poem here, please mail it to me. Thank you. 16 GOING ON 104 When I heard the words I wanted to cry. My heart fell to my stomach. I thought I would die. For my life would never soar. I was now 16 going on 104. With a snap of a picture my whole life turned around. The word cancer took over and threw my heart to the ground. I felt as though life had slammed the door and I was 16 but felt 104. My mind and my body ached deeply with pain. I cried out for help. My tears fell like rain. There were times I thought I could take no more. I was 16 but now 104. Every day that I suffered someone was always there, in my heart or in flesh to let me know that they cared. the words of comfort were loud as a roar and they helped me as I weent from 16 to 104. So if someone would ask I would honestly say, if I could plan my life I would plan it the same way. And all the physical pain could never compare to the friendships I've gained in this emotional affair. So in this poem I let my heart pour, for I am not only 16 but also 104. -Written by Andi Friend who wrote this at age 16 Lyssa Why can't I Stop the crying? Or maybe Stop the lying (to myself)? I know that you are gone But the time Marches on Until I can't remember your face Every now and then I start to write you a letter But then it sounds stupid I know that I could do much better In my heart there is a void That only you can fill And when we will meet again Will only be some God's will Sometimes I hang my head Down to cry To read all your notes And wonder why So as I close this note And send it up above I want you to know That I forge my name with love -Written by Patricia, in honor of Lyssa, 1983-1999 |
| Tracy About 3 years ago my life went down hill, and the ladder of health, I'm climbing still. My heart and my soul were torn at the seams, And this they were shattered, my hopes and my dreams. It seemed it only pured for my, and it did not rain. And then it was that I knew, my life would never be the same. For a good friend left me one day. I was shocked, and frightened, I didn't know what to say. She was sick, then healthy once more. then death came knocking at her front door. The doctors said "there's nothing we can do" and my good friend would leave us soon. Then the day came she was only 12 years old. She was young and fragile, but brave and bold. She stared death and pain right in the face. She fought her battle she stood her place. She fought hard and strong with a smile and a grin. She fought her battle, she fought to win. But she fought, not only for herself. She fought for others in her failing health. And with her family, and her friends. Tracy fought until the end. And then, on that dark and sadened night, my dear friend gave up her fight. In the arms of her mother and the comfort of her home she left on another journey but she was not alone. She had the love of many hearts to guide her on her way and she still has that love to this very day. So Tracy if you hear this, and I hope you do everyone down here really misses you. In memory of Tracy Dawn Roberts May 1, 1984-March 17,1997 TORN PANTS I struggle can’t get my god damn pants on I love these Pants. How long has it been since I’ve worn these a year maybe two. I look down at their torn from when I had been climbing. I can’t do anything but cry for my beloved pants. I fall into the bass now everything is crazy. Nothing makes sense why am I here what can I do? I pray Please god make it better this is a stupid fight what is it for? I have no sight of reason. I pray for it to end What does it mean when it’s over? What happens I don’t know if I can imagine it when it’s over. Am I supposed to die just yet? Am I ready? Where do I go I can’t see a fucking light. No help all I can do is be upset, angry and mad at myself. Maybe I’m just blind to the stupid light. WHY? -Written by Abe Naim, 15 years old |
| Stop crying you Moron Sit here, not understanding feelings of BLAH! Bitch slapped down to the flaming depths of hell. Shaking in a puddle of my own urine. Spear, pointed laughs stab at my heart. Shut up you sissy it’s only a joke! They’ll be tasting my boot leather soon enough. Me and my other half just dance around the camp fire now. Pick up my bike and ride off into the sunset. -Written by Abe Naim, 15 years old Back in my Seat Back in my seat maxin and relaxin Slightly confused seeing how I was out of the theatre for a while But the movies beginning to make sense. I’m sitting in a seat far way from my friends and family, And not just far but also it’s the wrong seat this is not the seat I had originally started in. The music in my head isn’t playing a familiar tune; it’s not a song I recognize But I enjoy it I think maybe if I try I could learn to love this Music. -Written by Abe Naim, 15 years old Be Happy In the end we're all beavers with anal capabilities Do not laugh for you do not know where I have been You've never fought my war Don't be angry with me for "Belittling you" You have never seen the pitch black that covered My soul when I was in hell burning for the devils entertainment. Walk in my feet and you'll hurt your shoes So just be quiet & "ENJOY THE SILENCE" -Written by Abe Naim, 15 years old |
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