Cancer

Cancer, you bastard, I wish you'd fuck off.

I'm busy! Two years just isn't enough.

I've got chocolates to eat and wine to quaff.

I've got books to write and poems to fluff!

Treatment's been tough, but positive thinking

and a dark sense of humour met each blow.

Finally, joy - the tumours are shrinking!

Now a chemo break til they start to grow.

The prognosis was hard but the date is

behind me; the hospice referral was, 

I think, too early, but so is a fizz - 

no jinxing allowed. Not finished, just paused.

So cancer, you bastard, I've had my say.

I'll chill out now and fight another day.