Dancer

I searched for a word
to rhyme with cancer,
and all i could think of
was the word ‘dancer’.

i just wrote a poem –
just yesterday –
of the hope i put to god,
to let her be okay.

but he doesnt exist,
so it was a fucked up hope;
cancer asks to dance again,
it widened its scope –

it danced with mom last year,
and now forces my pet,
i cant dare to pray,
it may not be done yet.

It may be God
spreading his fingers,
to catch any last hope
that perchance lingers;

but worry not,
there is none left;
you did your job well,
and now i am bereft,

of hope, of faith,
of all that i knew,
so instead of god,
i’ll just dance with you.

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