Sooner or later, all of us will have encountered cancer, either through an acquaintance or by acquiring it ourselves. Humans become better equipped in dealing with it in the future if we have a small idea of what goes on in cancer patients’ lives. This topic is also important because it helps build character and shows us not to be insensitive. Looks can be deceiving and someone who looks fine, may not be. As well, this topic allows us to put ourselves into the shoes of someone who has cancer and truly realize just how hard it is to have everything you have known change in a split second due to something you have no control over.
5. If your audience does not listen to this poem, what will happen? (If your answer is “nothing,” then you need
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Human beings are empathetic creatures and I hope that I can evoke even an inch of them to feel empathy towards those with cancer when I discuss a disheartening topic such as this one. This poem is also for those that have cancer. I want to do them justice by relating this poem as much as I can to what they feel. It will be hard as I have never experienced it, however, I want to share my message, which is why I will incorporate real stories told by people who have battled cancer and either won or lost …show more content…
My first exposure was when I was in grade 6. I don’t remember much about the person aside from the fact that she used to sit in front of me on the bus and she was -- I believe -- three years my senior. I do remember associating her with the popular and cool crowd though, as she had plenty of friends and she was very visually appealing. She was probably one of my first role models, as she wasn’t afraid to try something new, from her navy blue hair (mind you this was in a school where everyone had dull brown hair) to her devil-may-care attitude. My friends and I used to sit at the back of the bus and out of respect for her we would save her a seat. She was always there, until suddenly she wasn’t. I didn’t know what happened to her, but I simply accepted the fact that from the middle of spring to the end of the school year there would always be an empty seat on the left side of the bus right in front of me. Fast forward a few years and a picture of her smiling, facing the camera, was posted on the bulletin board of my grade eight teacher’s classroom. Turns out the picture was of her trying on her very first wig and being excited just at the prospect of having hair again. I don’t remember anything else, but even now I can still see her face and the gigantic smile that she wore when I close my eyes. I don’t know what