Hairbrush

The Hairbrush



My hairbrush lays there
Mocking me,
Full of copper strands
From weeks of Chemotherapy
It falls out in my hands

Each morning on my pillow
I see the glaring proof,
That soon it will be useless
I have to face the truth

Will my boyfriend leave me?
Will I keep my job?
Will I ever have the chance,
To be a wife or mom?

My hairbrush lays there
Mocking me,
Full of copper strands
From weeks of Chemotherapy
My life is in God’s hands

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