We live in hope all the time,
Wishing things will turn out fine,
Feelings welling in our hearts,
Whenever something nasty starts.
Despair and chance can be the game,
Especially when you’re in the frame,
Loved ones fallen to the call,
A cancer that lives within us all.
A sudden grasp, that grips like a wrench,
Devastation is the thirst for it’s quench,
The thought that life can be torn like a cloth,
A germ, that destroys, with its nectar and broth.
Each day goes by as the treatment we take,
Crushes the germ to an unharmful state,
All of the time in limbo, living life like a soap,
Always believing, agreeing the meaning called hope.