Here comes Bevan.... (spoken word)

Here Bevan comes..... (spoken word)

39,
in hospital,
here Bevan comes,
in from the rain,
Out there,
battling pain,
soaked,
toking again.
Got everything he wants,
just not fortune or fame,
A lovable rogue,
with an explosive fate,
no blame.

Depression set in,
feeling insane,
Doesn't get what's happening in his brain.
Questions the last time he felt sane,
Hates the battle deep in his membrane.

Could it be his cancer fight?
Nah,
not that story,
His struggle's draped in a different kind of glory.
Every day,
living a battle,
some would find gory,
Seeking peace and love,
not purgatory.

In the ward,
stories spread like wildfire,
Patients come and go,
life’s a live wire.
Each soul etched with scars,
some bright,
some dire,
Dreams of healing,
heart’s true desire.

Bevan’s ride’s a crazy,
rough and raw,
Looking for solace,
finding more.
Every step a battle,
every breath a claw,
Fighting hard against life's grim law.

Nights are long,
thoughts running deep,
Struggles etched in his heart,
make him weep.
Yet he stands tall,
no surrender,
no retreat,
In this hospital world,
fighting,
feeling beat.

Cannabis keeps his cancer in a cage,
But the fiend inside burns with rage.
Two days without,
and it’s back on the stage,
Threatening his life,
turning a new page.

Herbs are his shield,
his weapon,
his hope,
Against the torment,
helping him cope.
He's ready to fight,
climb any slope,
In this battle for life,
he’s found his scope.

39,
in hospital,
here Bevan stands,
A warrior fighting with his own hands.
Against pain,
sorrow,
and fate’s cruel plans,
In the storm of life,
making his stand.