Dying

By Larry R. Darrah

Powhatan Point, Ohio

Reprinted with permission of Bereavement Publishing, Inc. 1-888-604-HOPE (4673).

"What is the reason," the old man said.

"That when you  have cancer, you're treated as dead?"

Old friends don't come around and family stays away,

While your body deteriorates with each passing day.

I ponder the difference between old and young,

When the thoughts in your mind can't reach your tongue.

Is it the age I wonder, or is it the cancer,

That asks all the questions, but offers no answer.

They say that living is hard and dying is easy,

But that's hard to believe when your stomach is queasy

And every part of your body, is writhing in pain,

And the reflection in your eyes, is showing the strain.

But cancer's not contagious, so I don't understand

The attitude of many, who won't lend a hand.

Dying is hard and to do it alone,

Increases the pain to an outcome unknown.

It all seemed so easy in the years gone by,

To sit back and laugh, and not ever cry.

Now it's all up a hill, that's way too steep,

And I'm holding to a promise, I can't even keep.

Lord give me strength for the hard days to come,

And help me complete all things left undone.

What's left of my life I wish I knew,

And after my death, I'll come home to you.