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Hands in my pocket, eyes on the floor.
Awaiting the doctor, to open that door.
To tell me it's alright, I'm fine I'm good.
To shake my hand, and tell me to go home.
I'll be there for my son, alway's at hoe.
No such luck, none to result in glory.
He comes out with a picture of my x-ray, telling me there is something wrong, and I'm gonna have to stay.
Trying to sober up, trying not to cry, trying not to shake my head, as if in a coupledays I'm not going goodbye.
A stream of tears fill my eyes, finding out I have cancer in my thighs.
Radiation, treatment, somethingto make me better.
Something, something to keep my son from worriying.
A cure to help, a strand of hope, a pinch of luck.
Crying, screaming at myself.
Wingering how I hadn't noticed, so I could have gotten some help.
Going home to Charlie, and seeing his face, coming home to Charlie to be there.
Two weeks later I'm still hospital bound, trying to find my way out, trying to be found.
My heart was fading, cancer spreading, nothing to do but try to hang on.
Losing my grip, that's all I remember, broken from the earth, to become heaven's new member.
This letter floats, no telling where it may go, but still i hope it finds it's way home.