“My Voice” by Thomas Waters

Tommy Waters – ‘Survivor’

Torn Soul

I’m haunted like nightmares by never-ending days of anxiety.
Sleepless nights of uncertainty about the future take over me.
Feeling imprisoned and struggling to find a way to be set free.
I remember that one way is to look toward the Almighty.

Frequently I’m inundated with confusion and ambivalence.
Praying to the Lord one day while contemplating His existence.
I feel that He guides me through life but only at a distance.
If you’re intrigued by my words, then I hope you can dig this.

At the age of fifteen I found out something so unpredictable.
Cancer in my body but caught early, so it might be curable.
I believe it’s true when they say that change is inevitable
But I had to learn through my struggle that suffering was optional.

Along the way I met many people who were beautiful and strong.
Their valiant will to strive helped me to move optimistically along.
As a family our stories came together like lyrics of a song
So those who lost their battles are a part of me – they’ll never be gone.

Three plus years later I finally finished my mission.
Then at a checkup they said I was out of remission.
At that moment I felt like I was out of commission.
Should I give up or fight, now that was the question.

Answer: I will never recognize or submit to defeat
Reason being I am a veteran soldier of the street,
Not the one you run or walk on with your feet.
But I’ve endured pain when I couldn’t stomach it to eat.

Repeating to myself “Tommy, it’s war time, and you can’t break down.”
My artillery is fierce: head up, big smile, no room for a frown.
A kin to a prepared boxer who is about to go twelve rounds,
If I’ve got the proper training, I am going to win pound for pound.

The bell rings and nausea hits like a brick, and then comes the excruciating bone aches.
Fatigue, dangerously low blood counts, and body temps. high enough to bake cakes.
Infections bring fear like death is on the phone, which is a call I won’t take.
But with all the support in my corner, I trust I can’t make a mistake.

My doctor treats my wounds with knowledge defensively watching my marrow and blood.
Volunteers and visitors selflessly donate love and sincerity – favors I’d return if I could.
Nurses and staff are angels who breathe life into me with accolades and anecdotes about their lives and childhoods.
While a far from traditional, ever unconditional family’s love keeps me feeling good.
Each time I look at my bald head I begin to feel a sense of pride,
For it is symbolic of the fight not just an effective side.
Even more I will get through any obstacle day by day in stride.
That’s why my tears of joy celebrate the lives of loved ones who have died.

I understand why my mom taught me that everything happens for a reason.
Although at times I question God’s grand plan and feel like I’m committing treason.
Maybe it’s growth or ignorance that has me feeling like the changing seasons.
Still, if His amazing grace can find the lost then I hope He forgives these sins.

These positive vibes and lingering doubts engulf my mind as if a black hole,
Yet I will constantly, consistently persist until I achieve every goal.
Did you think you’d learn so much about this young, handsome man with a mole?
Probably not, but there’s a lot to be said from someone with a torn soul.