Hate

I met this man when I was 15 years old,
What I hate most is that he has no soul.
He walks into lives as though he belongs there.
Too often enough the soul is unaware.
He kills with not discretion or remorse
He quickly comes in with his massive force.
He takes futures, makes the strong weak
Changing lives as well as their physique
This man is capable of the worst
Frequently taking the young first
His fault alone, the reason for my tears
His selfish ways - stole her years
At 15 we met and he tore me apart
17 he came again and ripped out my heart
No other force alive has made me hate
Yet he leaves no room for any such debate
Some have beat him and come out on top
Those survivors inspire me to not stop
Nothing much we can do with talk
And this- this is why I walk

As many lives as he has taken
We continue to fight, don’t be mistaken
If he comes after another
We will fight him with each other
We’ll face him with faith and hope
And will refuse to fall down that dark slope.

He is the reason we cover up in the sun.
The reason December 31st and October 4th are no fun
The reason he couldn’t see me play
The reason I miss her everyday
The reason this year our leader will be missing
The reason we sit around reminiscing
He is the reason why we walk
Why to the track we flock

He is who makes us say
“We’ll get him next year”
that was last year.
His name . . .is Mr. Cancer.

Dedicated to Sharon Miller. My friend who gave Mr. Cancer a real run for his money.

In memory of
Frank “The Milkman” Parella., Marilyn Parella, Mary and Jim Howard.
In honor of Michele Gribi

And with great pride as always a great thanks to Team Yellow.