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Copyright: Fred Robel, and Fritz365 2010-2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fred Robel and Fritz365 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Tumors Tits & Teburculosis

You are your tumor
Because you aren't one of the lucky ones
Whose tumors reside upon the inside
Hidden from view
Until it's far too late to save you

No, yours is on your face
Right where you and everyone can see it
Staring right back into your eyes from the mirror
Looking people's way when they pass you by
With those furtive sideways looks you always get
As they look while trying to look like they are not
Though the children always stare
And sometimes ask awkward questions

You are your tits
Mostly because you are a chick
Parting the waves before you as they always do
Hard to hide unless they are small
Made more to feed desire than babies on most days

Your tits attract the eyes
From all sorts of guys
The ones who stare into their cleavage as they talk to you
The ones who pointedly look everywhere but at them
The ones whose eyes dart furtively from your tits to your eyes
Giving themselves a virtual sprain
Though some virtually peel away your shirt with their gaze
And dream of nursing the night away

You are your tuberculosis
From the moment you wake up and cough up first blood
To the way people edge away from you in public
Once they realize what you have
From the large printed words upon your mandatorily worn T-shirt
"Tuberculosis:  Stay Away"

Who could love a pulmonary disease?
Though the consumption aspect
Has certainly made it easy to lose those last twenty pounds
Making one long and lithe
Though bent in half with constant hacking

After all
That's who you are