Purpose

Cancer.

The word itself is a cancer,

Igniting fear and disgust when discussed.

It is a thief,

Stealing happiness, hair, hope.

Cancer stole Dad.

But this thief defied itself.

It gave.

It gave me purpose.

It awakened a passion.

For a world where the children ask,

"Cancer? What's that?"

In losing, I gained.

I gained definition.

In losing, I learned.

I learned empathy.

In losing, I discovered.

I discovered anger.

Not the bitter kind.

The motivating kind.

The kind that speaks to me.

It says, "You are here to help."

To help the sad feel joy.

To help the bald feel beautiful.

To help the hopeless feel comfort.

 

 

 
This poem is about: 
Me

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