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Why there’s nothing


so majestic, so stupendous                                                and strong




the human body. So


perfected in its intricacies


that one simple sneeze can


completely corrupt its complexities.


Where the cells have more


freedom than the people.


They decide upon mutinous mutations


beyond                                                                                   all control.




Our design is our demise.




They sit complacently


eyes glazed and glaring over


scarlet nose and sallow skin,


united only in conviction that their illness is


the worst.




They knock. With their


filthy fingers, and prepare their




Pathetic sickly whining


act as if they’re dying.




How the callous and cold-hearted


fall to their knees




for my sympathy.


Oh, don’t they know,


the wrong pill                                                                      could kill?


Would seem such an                                                          innocent




not been sleeping – another ache


nothing more to                                                                  contemplate.




Young so stupid – old still foolish


“I won’t eat I’m gonna drink I’m gonna sniff


Some powdered random debris


test my body till


the bitter                                                                               end.”


And every


Time, they’re in the clear


But not


Me, I’m










Ca-   ca-   can..... can-cer...


Every simple empty day


I have to say


it, to someone, so why                                                    can’t  I


say it, even whisper                                                      


it, to myself?




I’m their God; they want – demand- a


miracle cure,


I can fix them but


not their real problem








But oh sweet, merciful God, who


scorns me, mocks me,


laughs at me, laughs,


gives me the power




in my fingertips, over


life and death yet






my own.






Notes: This is a poem about the tragic irony of a doctor who is suffering from an untreatable illness, who struggles as he watches people making choices that negatively affect their health, yet continue to be unfailingly healthy. Essentially, this is a comment upon the nature of our mortality, and how no-one is exempt from illness or death.


I used language relating disease, and tried to focus on the imagery in some parts, so as to convey the gravity of the situation; ‘sallow skin.’ Also, I found the use of alliteration to be useful to create a sense of power behind the words, almost making it sound as though the doctor narrating the poem were shouting or spitting the words at the audience. Equally, at the start of the poem, I created some rhymes, which made the piece sound more light-hearted, which was a way of showing the doctor attempting to conceal his true feelings and fears, yet, later on as the poem progresses, the jovial rhymes no longer occur, and the doctor cannot help but reveal how he actually feels.


I chose to break up the word ‘cancer’ to demonstrate the immense difficulty the doctor has with admitting his own illness to himself, something which a lot of people struggle with.


To signify the doctor’s sheer rage and mania, we have repetitions of words, for example, ‘laughs’ when he is describing God, and this coupled with the sarcastic use of ‘merciful’ really helps to convey the sheer sense of despair and lack of control that the character feels, which I think is very relatable.


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