Yesterday the girl was loved without spite, despite blight
Seasons past, today girlish charm perceived with scorn
Wishing in silent agony the Father could take back being born
Yesterday she was naive and unworldy; today's life, a fight
Cancer. A tumor. What a bother, such a chore
A chore that their little girl never hoped to be
A task to be taken daily by three
Thrice loved, triple scorned. Pray for the dreaded angel to untether love, usher me to deaths farthest shore
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