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“One of the truest, one of the few.

Your essence is pure, no need to subvert.

Nothing but goodness, joy and happiness exude from your core.

It may be said of many, but your smile has watts that illuminate the truth, lighting up a room as only you, Elizabeth Young, can do.

That hair so lush, like it breathes on its own, to catch but a whiff is to know that I belong.

Belong in that embrace, welcomed into your orbit, the feeling so special, so genuine, so joyous, that I’ll never forget it.

That heart, your great big heart, encompassing every room, but never wanting the spotlight to shine down on you.

Your gift as a giver, showering love with aplomb,

yet always looking out for others, mindful of those with less,

makes you a special human who always wants the best.

Your laugh like no other, a kinship have we,

sometimes those seeking silence, don’t appreciate the unique harmonies between you and me. 😂

Your essence is a gift that I will forever cherish, I am blessed to call you my friend, to love you is an honor.

You’re the other half of my sunshine and that can never be taken away.

Your radiance is immortal, your legacy unmatched,

Yesterday, today and forever you will always shine bright and show me the way.”

Todd Carter
An ode to my amazing friend Elizabeth Young as she battles brain cancer.
Randy Johnson Jul 29
He died one year ago today and was laid to rest.
He was a good friend and his name was Earnest.
Earnest was one of three men that I knew who died last year.
He repaired and sold computers but cancer ended his career.
He would still be fixing and selling computers if he was alive.
Earnest tried to beat cancer but sadly, he could not survive.
His friends and family are sad because he no longer exists.
He was a great man and a friend who has been missed.
Everybody who knew him was truly blessed.
He was my friend and his name was Earnest.
Randy Johnson Jul 13
I remember how much Dad suffered during his final days.
After months of receiving chemotherapy, he passed away.
Regular chemo stopped working so they used a more powerful version that made him feel worse.
It wasn't long after he received the more powerful chemotherapy that he ended up in a hearse.
When it came to being diagnosed with Leukemia, it certainly wasn't something that was foreseen.
Today is the ninth anniversary of my dad's death, he died on the thirteenth of July in the year 2013.
When Dad learned that he had cancer, he made me promise to take care of Mom after he died.
But she died four months before he did and we didn't know she was ill, we were all mystified.
When a person becomes so ill that he or she dies, it's hard to comprehend.
When Dad drew his last breath nine years ago today, his life came to an end.
Greyisntwell Jun 24
Wyrd (2022)

How can I cry over feelings that aren't valid
How can I mourn for something that was never gonna happen...

In this lifetime I've seen poets and fakes
In this lifetime I've seen sinners and saints
But tell me why we keep chasing these dreams
To be run over in the end?

The Universe you gave me the rites to what I needed
The Universe you took the way from me to get what I wanted...

I've always felt like I wasn't deserving of what I wanted to become...
You proved the fates right when you did what you did...

It was such a betrayal of my soul
It was such a betrayal of my heart

Ill never be able to forgive this audacity
I'll never be able to forget this travisity..

It wasn't enough you kept her from me
Now you take the only thing I ever wanted to be..

The Universe is give and take and I'll never forget or forgive...
A B Perales Apr 20
has to
So, I

I have
his cells

We fought the good fight, I'm sorry it wasn't enough.    C.N 1943-2016
I open the window
So I don’t suffocate
But the air doesn’t reach my lungs
As I try to count my breaths

Monday I came in to see you
For the last time.
The last time.

And I never said goodbye.

Wednesday I took a test.
Back at school and then went home.
I don’t remember anything
Beside the PSAT and the moment you were gone from me.
I remember it was 9.

Dad in the hall
Bedroom door opens
“I’m home”
(the last time I believe in miracles as delusion and hope burn all sense of reason).
Is she with you?

“Where’s Mom?”

“She’s Gone.”

Black. Repeat.

I remember how everything got worse from then.
It doesn’t get better
You get used to it.
You get used to cold,
Just the absence of heat.
You get used to the holes when they become a part of you.

I don’t remember forgetting.
Your face gets fuzzy.
I conjure up your voice but I lost your laugh.
I can’t hold on to everything that’s flying away from me
In a thousand different directions
And when someone asked me last week,
I can’t remember your favorite food,
It’s been viciously consumed by the hunger of time.

I remember the look on your dad’s face-
This is what I remember most-
The look as he stared at you
With silent tears
And the face of a man,
A veteran of war,
Who was never prepared for the devastation of life
As he is told his daughter will die.
She will die slowly.
And he can’t save her,
But he can watch
As the life drains out of her.

I gasp for air uncontrollably
Leaning my head out the window.
As I am stuck remembering
Memories block air from reaching my lungs.
Stuck on repeat
Spinning spinning spinning
And it’s been two years.
As of today it's now been five years, but I thought I'd share this one from three years ago.
My then boyfriend
Now husband
Never forgave you for putting your hand on my thigh,
Casually mentioning the ******* beaches in the south of France.
Your daughter needed a chaperone on your family’s upcoming vacation.

You went and I stayed of course
The ******* beach all the poorer for my absence.

I am not the kind of girl who
Finds herself at Disney Paris at the end of the movie.
That’s not the way this movie ends, anyhow.

12 years later
One lung lighter
Tens of millions denser
and poised to send your daughter
to Dartmouth
Or Tulane
Or anywhere she’d rather.

She’ll have everything the world could offer her
In exchange for her father.

A parent shouldn’t have to know.

So I forgave you the hand thing
And the lewdness of a drunken survivor
Poised on the lip of an ever-widening hole.

If you asked to take me now,
I think I’d go.
I’ve always wanted to see the Louvre.
I can almost hear it:
The clicking heels and murmurs,
Your overwrought humanities professor explanations of this or that and me humoring you with appropriate reverence as always,
And the dead certain silence of the thing we will not speak about,
Pointedly conspicuous in its absence,
Filling the space between.
Dedicated to my friend John, a mesothelioma survivor. This is my 100th published poem on HelloPoetry
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