Cancer

It was a few and a few months ago,
When Dad had undergone the chemo,
All those solitary months he lay in bed,
The only refuge where his tears are shed.

I peek through the hole on his bedroom door,
I watch him as he crawls to the floor,
He scribbled something on the paper,
What could it be other than a prayer?

Tears stream down his lonely face,
And I couln't help but catch his gaze,
His eyes seem intense but hopeless,
And my heart shattered into a million pieces.

Dad is counting the days until he dies,
He is waiting for the day to say goodbye,
Sometimes I'm afraid, sometimes I'm angry,
How can he let go and leave me in misery?

He is my solitude to endurance,
But seeing him now is my only chance,
To witness how hard he fought,
Against the odds life had brought.

It was a few and a few months ago,
When Dad totally left me for heaven,
But I no longer blame him for leavin'.

I used to fear that someday he would go,
I used to fear he will choose to,
But now that he does, I've found hope,
And I've learned to move forward and cope.

Yes, it was a few and a few months ago,
When Dad scribbled something I thought as prayer,
But it was a poem I should keep forever:

"Bury me and bury me deeply,
Always remember me dearly,
Buy me a casket the color of red,
Paint it with a deserted hospital bed,
And at the top please put a dove,
To show them all I died for love."