My sister's sick with a disease that can barely be cured
a flash and all is gone when hope seemed restored

pumping veins with poison and chemicals, to ****;
when the cure's worse than the sickness all you're left with is will

when you have nothing but love and helplessness
you realise money and peace are just luxuries, excess -

for how much is a pure healthy soul
nothing to be afforded by countless billions or gold

she sits there now, starving but sick
there's nothing I can do but be quick

mop up the mess, fawn a laugh, a medicating joke
when deep down in my heart I just want to choke -

when her hair falls out and you can do nothing but smile
then quietly run away to cry for awhile

when she looks into your eyes and says she's fine
even with her voice bloated and trying not to whine

when the days feel black and you have nobody to turn to
even though they're all around you

when you curse the Lord, wish the cancer upon yourself
when you punish your body just to understand her health

when things become unbearable, but you're always there

*that's when you know, my son, you truly care.