My love came home from work one day,
She was early; I asked if she was okay,
She'd been to the hospital and didn't know how to say,
"I've got terminal cancer, my Love."
I started laughing, it wasn't true,
"They have only played a joke on you,
You remember, we agreed, you have a touch of flu?
Honey, oh please don't cry, my Love."
The weeks went by, my anger came,
I started to realise this was no game,
"God you ****er!" I placed the blame,
I found it hard to look at my Love.
Christmas came, she lost her hair,
Sundays spent on knees in God's lair,
"God, I'll do anything for her repair!"
All this I hid from my Love.
There wasn't long before she'd die,
All I could do was watch her cry
I was powerless; i'd lost the will to try.
I hurt so much for my Love.
I felt at peace, she looked so calm,
I ignored the goosbumps on my arm,
I no longer felt inner alarm,
"At last you're free, my Love"