20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers



Wearied by this gnawing at my mind,

I am holding onto  memories like treasure.

The chain of disease grows link by link,

Forging ahead, pushing, pulling, still hoping.

Draining the strength from my body,

So tired, battling day after day.

Pulling me into a mire of darkness,

Looking for hope, strength, light.

Fear wrapping its fingers around me,

The cold wet grip that tightens and takes your breath,

Like a snake capturing its prey.

A small spark still lingers, still exists,

In the darkness a light begins to grow.

To believe, to hope, to know,

That there is a chance.



A note about this poem,

My husband was diagnosed in January 2012 with non small cell lung cancer stage 3.  It has been a tremendous battle so far and what he has endured this far is beyond belief.  He has lost almost 80 pounds, he was not a big man, and can no longer eat or drink.  So this poem is written from his perspective.  To those with cancer, you are my hero.  What you go through is horrendous.  Never mind the disease, the treatments alone are torture and those are supposed to help you get better.   It is a journey not for the weak.




Author: Tia

quiet, creative, challenging

12 thoughts on “Tired…..

  1. This is very touching. Really powerful imagery.

    Mark Blasini

  2. After reading the poem I was afraid it was about something like this. You write of it so well. I understand, Tia. My father had stage IV lung cancer that had metastasized from the base of his tongue. I can relate to everything you’ve said — so eloquently — in your poem. I send you and your husband my warm thoughts.

  3. Thank you Maggie.

  4. I especially like the line, “The chain of disease grows link by link.” Very original, and, sadly, true.

    • I have to give credit to my high school English teacher Miss Julian. I will forever remember her. She challenged me, pushed me, inspired me. Miss Julian taught me to appreciate words, when I could not form them with my mouth because I was quiet and shy I could express with my pen.

  5. I’m with you. I had two fantastic high school English teachers, both of whom I’m still in touch with. I, too, was shy, but words flowed from my pen. Interesting how that happens, isn’t it?

  6. Tia, thank you for sharing this most difficult and personal trial. My mother was stage 4 before we knew but she still fought for a while. That was 20 years ago. I hope you are like me in that writing helps you make sense of things you can’t easily make sense of.

  7. I have a collection of poems about my mother’s illness and six year-long death. She did not have cancer, however. My parents were divorced, and my father had cancer. Writing certainly helps to make sense of things I cannot easily understand. Thank you for your courage in sharing.

  8. Clicked “Like” for lack of any other word to click. Good luck to both of you,
    knowing what you’re going through…


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