Numbers on a form.
Long awaited,
Have they gone up?
Have they gone down?
well .... a bit of both.
The scalpel will know.
Only the Scalpel will know.
A phone call!
Pack your bags, drop off the kids.
Daddy will you look after mummy,
Keep her safe?
Tears. So many tears.
No sandwiches, no water.
The monotonous sound of the tires,
A rush, no sleep.
Hope. Hangs in the air,
Do you reach for it?
Do you dare?
Then the numbers AND the letters come,
AML MDS TP53
Fuck the numbers. Fuck the Letters, Fuck it all.
