There's a rat that lives in her stomach:
Chewing her entrails,
Gnawing her liver.

It was born and grew inside her:
Clogging her bowels,
Cramping her spleen.

Like a cuckoo in a lark's nest:
Stretching her body,
Stealing her song.

It feeds on her every moment:
Seizing her hunger,
Smothering her mind.

Discarding her used and wasted:
Dismissing her memories,
Discharging her life.

The waves of her breath receding,
As in finite time her tide goes out.

Tim Phillips

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bowel-cancer/