I just found a poem that I wrote six months after my final Chemo treatment. I was still in quite the state, mentally shaken up and physically exhausted. I am proud to say I wrote this with my non-dominant hand. I’ve cleaned it up a bit but this is how I found it, I’ll leave it like this for now, maybe later I’ll do another rewrite but I kind of like it this way, raw.
Death Was Not Pleased
When Saturn devoured his child,
He was unapologetic.
It was out of self preservation.
Death was not pleased.
Death did not make a deal,
With Saturn.
Death left Saturn covered in corruption.
Death was not pleased;
Saturn had devoured his
Own children, each for
Self preservation.
Death witnessed Saturn
Covered in corruption
and did not make time for him.
Death allowed Saturn
To reap what he had sown;
and so now children
Dance on Saturnalia.
My Rusty Prose 