Welcome to Poetry.com
Poetry.com is a huge collection of poems from famous and amateur poets from around the world — collaboratively published by a community of authors and contributing editors.
I don't think much of what I have just heard
for they have mentioned that awful “C” word!
How dare they talk about cancer to me
and then refer to a lumpectomy.
“How is it that the cancer word” I said,
“provokes in me so much fear and dread? ”
For this thing so harmful and malignant
on the scan looked so insignificant.
They’ve got it all wrong. You just wait and see.
Both of my wife’s breasts look alright to me.
No need for surgeons to have their way.
Just leave them alone, it will go away.
Hold on a minute! What if they are right!
I would be foolish to put up a fight
and just ignore all their concern and care
pretending that it’s not really there.
Oh dreaded cancer invading my wife.
Why don’t you go and get out of our life?
You’re causing us such havoc and distress
but you’ll not spoil her beauty or loveliness.
Seeking to mutilate, maim or to kill,
you’ll not destroy our resolve or our will.
We’ll rise above the challenges you bring
as together we praise our God and sing.
Praise Him for the National Health Service
for their diligence and their faithfulness.
For all of the doctors, nurses and staff
that have laboured so hard on our behalf.
Praise God for the early diagnosis
and for the swiftness of the prognosis.
Praise Him for the concern people have shown.
That He is with us and we’re not alone.
We will trust Him for all that is to come
and rely upon Him for the outcome.
For He is Sovereign and His will is best.
Our mind is at peace and our heart’s at rest.
Discuss this Royston poem with the community:
Find a translation for this poem in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:
"The dreaded “C” word" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 3 Aug. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/103057/the-dreaded-“c”-word>.