Sad, sick, and broken down
I'm just to weak to fight
I pray to God that somehow,
I'll make it through the night.
Everyday it happens,
my hair falls to the ground,
I pick up all the pieces,
and cry without a sound.
The hospital's my home,
my mother stays with me,
she cries all the time,
when she thinks that I can't see.
Unsure of what will happen,
so impatiently I wait,
I tap my foot against the floor,
thinking it's getting late.
The doctor walks into my room,
the room that's drawn of white,
and tells me it will be okay,
I just have to fight.
The cancer is leaving me,
I know that I will live,
but somehow, deep inside,
I feel there's nothing left to give.