PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Littlest Thing


There's this little cell,

and some days it truly makes me feel like hell.

I haven't provoked it,

but truly, I feel like shit.

 

They call it the C word.

A name that's too taboo.

Have you heard?

It could be in you too.

 

I was sick but now I'm clean.

I wish the same for others.

This disease treats people so mean.

I wish all the fathers, mothers, sisters, and brothers

 

Were cancer free.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.