Breastless Warriors

"Mom I'm sick."- words I often heard through
the growing years

These words hang in the air like illusive may flies
nagging at my ears

My flaying hands swat and miss,
I must keep trying

Laying to waste hurting words which cannot
soothe the crying

Cleanse the body, heal the heart, and strengthen the mind
from damaged emotions drained

Doctors with clinical voices hint at hope
tempered and strained

Bruises, cuts and scrapes the badges of youthful games of
folly and play

Were easy to remedy with a band-aid, a kiss and
bedtime stories of yesterday

Is she too young to join the breastless warriors who must
learn a new coping game?

Hiding secret surgical scars, inhaling scientific concoctions
bearing unspeakable names

This cancer, this demon strikes its' victims
with little warning

Causing endless nights with no sunshine even
in morning

Poison flows through needles without mercy into
veins blue from angry abuse

Wanting it all to stop NOW, to go away
what's the use?

Isn't there a magical cure, a pill, a remedy,
a potent potion?

Perhaps a wizard's spell or an old fashioned
medicine man with sorted secret notions

This diabolical disease is no respecter of persons,
no prejudices to gender or age

Acceptance comes--the fight is on, faith flows in tubes
of toxic liquid replacing rage

Pale blue eyes reveal a glimmer of freedom,
daring to dream again

A bald head shows fuzzy growth as
her new life begins.

FOOTNOTE:

All was in the Master's plan
She thought she had no choice
Turning cannot into can
He gave her soul a true voice
Women will listen, as she strives
To enlighten, saving young lives