Welcome to My Poetry Site
a friend stopped by,
just yesterday,
I asked him how's he been,
his voice said fine,
his voice and tone,
not so.
I asked again,
if he was well,
then he spoke the truth.
He said the word,
I know too well,
cancer was his dread.
He spoke as if,
a punishment,
for some deed he'd done,
something long forgotten.
He spoke of life,
he wished to live,
that now he had been cheated.
All his plans,
had gone away,
now this was to be his lot.
All I could do was listen,
and comfort him in silence,
as he spoke in pain.
Sometimes it's not the words we say,
It's then we should just listen.
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
listen
listen