That boy over there,
the one sitting with his head between his knees,
he has cancer,
and nothing can put him at ease.
His doctors give him time,
saying time is a medication,
when really it's all he has,
time is just a creation.
His father left, depression set,
he doesn't know what to do anymore.
He's given up, given in,
and lets his tears fall to the floor.
A stranger walks in knowing nothing.
Knowing nothing about the boy,
the boy and his cancer,
but she befriends the boy.
Slowly conversation starts,
a hint here, another there,
until she knows the story,
until she knows when and where.
The boy with the cancer is no Augustus Waters,
he does not talk like him, nor acts like him,
but to others that's how he is viewed,
that is the label to him they pin.
The boy with the cancer believes that he's dying,
that there's no point to life anymore,
but what he doesn't realize, the girl tells him,
is that he is only living more.
He is only living more of a life,
more of a life than every before,
and that with every breath,
he is living more.
And the girl, she is afraid,
afraid that's she's lying,
that in fact, he is,
he is really dying.
In that moment, she sighs,
she wonders why she says,
the lies that she says,
that her lies are like a dispenser of Pez.
Always stopping at the moment that they are needed,
always popping out and hitting people in the face.
But than she realizes something,
and it brings her to her base.
Cancer to some is a pyramid,
ending at the top,
to others it's a line,
a line that never stops.
She tells the boy her theory,
and he looks at her with a sad smile,
saying, "Thank you for the support,
but I was not worth your while."
"Oh but you were," says the girl,
"I learned that love is not a high school fling,
it's not kissing and smooching,
nor is it a wedding ring."
"Love can be shared with friends,
friends worth my time,
friends that I can confide in,
secrets we can hide."
"Love is not a measurement,
nor is it an emotion or a certificate,
Love is when you care,
care that will never quit."
"If sharing is caring,
(and so it's been said),
then caring is sharing,
(Am I messing with my head?)"
"I realized I loved you,
like only a friend can,
and although I forbid it,
death may bring his hand."
"He may try to take you away,
but I'll kick him in the ass,
he'll go home with a sore bum,
because I kicked him with some sass."
°°°°°
Sad stories man. Sad stories.