Dancer

I searched for a word
to rhyme with cancer,
and all i could think of
was the word ‘dancer’.

i just wrote a poem –
just yesterday –
of the hope i put to god,
to let her be okay.

but he doesnt exist,
so it was a fucked up hope;
cancer asks to dance again,
it widened its scope –

it danced with mom last year,
and now forces my pet,
i cant dare to pray,
it may not be done yet.

It may be God
spreading his fingers,
to catch any last hope
that perchance lingers;

but worry not,
there is none left;
you did your job well,
and now i am bereft,

of hope, of faith,
of all that i knew,
so instead of god,
i’ll just dance with you.

She

as she grows older,
my fear turns colder;
i ache to see how time wastes
sight, hearing, tastes.
she is my daughter,
my tears, my laughter,
she is my night mate,
she is linked to my fate;
she follows me around,
she longs to be found;
my heart is she,
what else could she be?
i really love her so,
even more than i could know,
yes, she causes my fear,
i always want her near;
for her, its the same,
i’m as sure as her name,
if she could speak,
i wouldnt be this weak;
all she wants to convey,
is a wish to play and play.
i hope God is kind this time,
to this heart of mine.

Dramatic

Let’s be dramatic: I am furious.
Torn apart by those who should care –
Either by love or indifference –
It’s getting too much to bear!

I expect to love who do love;
But I end up with those who hurt –
So pain is another form of love:
Does it prove how much love’s truly worth?

I want to scream, I wish to escape,
I want to be rid of this colossal dead weight,
That oppresses my should-be, maybe soul,
While time puts it in an unending wait.

For what reason? Leading to what end?
What use the lover? Where is the friend?
How am I alone in such bitter cold?
Why must suffering gain this much hold?

Why cannot people be a bit kinder?
Why cannot love be a bit blinder?
If I do not release this anger soon,
I’ll end up crying, dramatically dying.

But do not deign to offer me hope;
Because that’s the biggest liar here;
He shelters such expectation,
Which commands me to kneel and adhere.

I have seen differently,
I have felt the opposite,
Disease surrounds his being,
Corroding all around bit by bit.

Metaphysical thought can go take a leap!
I am sick of knowing how Karma multiplies!
And though I squeeze hope by the throat,
He thrives and my anger wantonly survives.