Those months - Eight!
One day she woke up, found herself bald
Oh how she cried, she sobbed, she bawled
Her lustrous tresses were gone, you know
For a hair transplant, the doctor said - No.
Cancer robbed her, left her feeling so weak
It happened suddenly, like just last week.
One day she was fine, just had a dull pain
The next day, she slumped against the pane.
The glass broke, shattered piece by piece
From that moment on, she had no peace.
Weak and nauseous she sunk into a hole
But her kin rallied, supported her whole
To be depressed, she was not all allowed
Gradually health returned; spoke aloud
Instead of just picking at food, she ate
Cancer she beat after months eight.
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