THE THIRD VOICE
~Frank Morgan

Mario Lanza became my idol, when I was very young
I tried to emulate his voice, knew every song he'd sung.
In literature, Keats and Shakespeare I studied very hard,
My voice would swell and passions tell, as I would quote the Bard

But reading books and learning much weren't total education
For music's art would play its part, I sang with great elation.
In prose or verse, or tenor soaring, my voice was my ID
The accent sweet, the tone unique, told all that I was me.

Then Cancer struck that fragile chord, not just once but twice!
Eating away, eroding, burning. Rewarding the smoking vice.
Cobalt beams would kill it dead, that very first time around,
Second time, the surgeon's knife, and I'm left without a sound

Desperation, fear and dread filled each day of my new life
As I tried ways to find out how to overcome my strife.
I had to learn to speak again, but how when on ones own
I was a freak, no one to teach, this silent fool...alone

Then slowly, slowly words came out, a drone for sure, it's true
But language graced these lips again, so how could I stay blue?
I'd used a tool, vibrating source, to imitate a voice,
Then I discovered gulp and speak......I had another choice

Where once I had a single voice, I find I now have three!
The third came with my keyboard "chord" and screen of my PC.
The latest, loudest of them all, gives power to speak to nations,
And sends out notes of hope and cheer to newer cancer patients.

The message that I've tried to send, in this short history,
Is one of faith and hope to all who sadly follow me.
The surgeon's knife will take but flesh, and leave you with your life,
So take that gift and use it well, tell others of your strife...
For we are teachers, you and I, all laryngectomees...
Who've proved to all that we have beat the dread Big C disease.