PAD, Day 5… a metamorphosis poem.
Good Cells, Gone Bad
You can’t see natural gas,
or smell it or taste it either,
yet it is deadly all the same.
That’s why they attach a
scent to it, like rotten eggs.
Early stage cancer is like that,
invisible, operating by stealth,
slipping just under the radar,
until one day, it shows up as
a grainy white patch on an x-ray,
or as a sudden hard lump,
that wasn’t there yesterday.
If they could attach
a warning scent to malignant cells,
what would it be—
rotten eggs, or brimstone?