They are the memoirs of a battle,
A battle fought fiercely and a battle field of fire.
My snowy locks are like phoenix birds
A whole flock of them,
Rising from the fires of chemo,
Bleached by the red devil
Roasted by the radiation
They murmur in my ears
Words of love and hope,
Every time I want to give up they
Remind me of a battle fought with vigour
And the days of incessant sinking-
Like Arjuna listening to Krishna
I listen to my snowy tufts every single day,
Reflecting from my mirror they utter to me
On a daily basis – same little words
"DON'T EVER GIVE UP TO A LOUSY CRAB".!
