Child Ghosts

through the tunnels of my mind the memory is still there...

countless times i sat in that waiting room, countless times i saw their faces.. countless times i felt their pain - and could do nothing but languish in my selfishness

i'm not sure anyone knows, at least no one i have ever come across could ever understand what its like to see someone dying from what you have survived..

the foul wasting, innocense mirred with joyless existince... and what have i done in the meanwhile - nothing

i have betrayed them all... i've never told their stories.. i've never used my gifts for them... often i've thought of going and offering what platitudes i could, but always its stayed my hand knowing how much a slap in the face it would surely be..

yet still those faces... dying slowly from the 'cure', the 'treatment'... and my selfish pain of thinking 'why me, why not them...'

thousands and often times their ghosts plague my nights, asking me to speak for them.. and my hand remains unmoved... until now.. and what a limited place to call attention to our shared disease - my life, their death

have you ever watched a child dying of cancer?

Reviews

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[Raven Wilson]

This is very powerful and gives such an insight to hat most people cannot even begin to imagine. It makes one think about what they pass by.