FIGHT AGAINST CANCER

fight against cancer

This was my first case of the day,
After a long visit to native and stay.
Reading this case sheet, I entered the ward,
Saw a young girl pray to lord.
With a worry etched, deep in her face
I was lost for a while, standing in my place
Her reports were yet to come
Hours since they collected serum.


Weeks ago, everything seemed fine,
She was good and feeling sublime.
It was by accident,she found this lump
not too big, but quite a bump.
She had developed pallor,
Also there was rising fever.
Doubts of cancer raising in my mind
But decided to wait and find


Soon her reports arrived,
Bad news from the sample derived.
Never knew how to convey,
So I began looking away.
Is it fine, Is everything ok, caretaker yells,
Yes sir, just a battle between red & white cells.
With a quick walk, I went.
Her dad frowned, knowing what I'd meant


Later I explained about chemotherapy,
The only possible remedy.
Scans done,A malignant tumor it was indeed,
Growing at an unbelievable speed.
I start the first cycle, without any wait,
For her life was now her fate.
Her therapy would go on for a few week cycles.
She was back month later, unable to face the battles.

THE CURSE OF POVERTY (Poverty- a curse)

I cant believe, its the 21st century,
Almost everything has changed so swiftly.
But still, there remains a curse,
Making its effect being felt immense.
This is the curse of poverty,
With its sound loud and raspy.

I cant believe, people struggling to strive,
Really unable to thrive.
Children and men who exchange sweat for some price,
But end up fainting, dreaming a mouth full of rice.
This is the curse of poverty,
With its sound loud and raspy.

I cant believe, seeing a beggar search warmth on a cold night,
Braving with a shawl under the moonlight.
There are millions, who live like this on street,
Strolling here and there, to find something to eat.
This is the curse of poverty,
With its sound loud and raspy.

I cant believe, a defeated mother poisoning her children,
just because poverty was her burden,
I see many of them living with major health ailment,
with sick and dying children, unable to buy treatment.
This is the curse of poverty,
With its sound loud and raspy.

DEC 1st- WORLD AIDS DAY--> AN ODE TO PEOPLE FIGHTING AGAINST AIDS

A  few years back I had a chance to visit a hospital cum rehab center where people with AIDS were there...!
The poem the I have written below is based on my experience I had over there...



All those eyes I saw were filled with hunger for love,
After they had received nature's most shocking shove.
They knew it was too late to cry
With minds set, eveready to say goodbye.
For many I could remember to have seen, remaind artless.
While the rest were emotionless.
This center to them was like a prison cell,
Living life there was like hell.

I could barely walk between them, with the feelings of empathy,
Realizing how one mistake can turn to be costly.
Without any hesitation I gave them their most needed drug,
A comfortable and a warm hug.
I realized to find their skin and dress so clammy,
Cause they were helpless, also caretakers needed more money.
Soon my friends came with some special lunch,
For everyone there it was their brunch.

Two Minutes

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 29; the 29th Edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The topic for this month is 'TWO MINUTES'.

source - Google images

Just two minutes ago,
Which seems like long ago.
I was with my dream girl,
Since she's left, feels like a fairy-tale gone hurl.


Just two minutes ago, she looked into my eyes
Saw her bow down, filled with shies.
I was now staring at her for a while
untill I was disturbed by a call on my mobile

Just two minutes ago I was with her
Couldnt believe I was  really there with her.?
It looked like a dream come true,
Staring at her I ended up looking like a statue.


Just two minutes ago, she held my hand,
I was dreaming of running away with her to Oakland.
I felt her tender fingers touch mine,
Expecting out future would redefine.


Just two minutes ago, our hands split, and a truck hit her,
Soon there is a pool of blood around her.
A sound of goodbye came out of her heart,
The pain of losing her is now poking me like dart.


--> Sulaiman Sait

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