A Cancer Survivor's Poem

 Grief is a jagged rock

 that you bury deep in your pocket.

 Its sharp edges force you

 to take it out and examine it from

 time to time, even when you don't want to.

 And when it is too heavy to carry,

 you must ask a friend to hold it

 so you can rest.

 As time passes

 it's a little easier to take the rock

 out of your pocket;

 it doesn't seem to weigh as much.

 Now you show it to

 circle of friends and occasionally,

 even a stranger.

 One day you pull out the rock

 and, surprisingly, it doesn't even

 hurt.

 For the edges are no longer jagged

 but smoothed by time, touch,

 and tears.

Unknown

 _____________________________________________________________________________________

           Caves

Each Person is a cave

explored by lamps

of introspection.

And the ropes of others

drop like questions

into unknown parts of us.

What revelation,

abandoned out in the light,

lets go while the cold rock drips?

Each person is a cave

saved from the day when

out of the cold rocks crumbling,
the bars will flap off

black with answers

inside of them.

Unknown Author