Cancer
By thewritegurl
A ripe apple, brilliantly shining black red To the eye no one would see To the ear no one would hear The silent plague within A sickly worm whose entrance microscopic Waits to be discovered Much like that sickly disease that attacks millions Black and retched like disaster Stripping them of their strength Away from invaders gaze Until at last it comes out But then, it's too late The only prescription, death. Written March 12th, 2002 © on Mar 12 2002 04:01 AM PST, Nicole 0 • 10
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"A ripe apple, brilliantly shining black red..."