In white coats adorned, they stand, serene,
Guiding souls through trials unforeseen.
Their hands wield tools of science's might,
To battle shadows, bring forth light.
With knowledge vast, they diagnose,
The whispers of a silent foe's impose.
Each word they speak, a beacon's glow,
Through darkened paths, they help us go.
Chemotherapy, a potent sword they wield,
Targeted therapies to secrets yield.
Immunotherapy, a shield of hope,
Against cancer's grip, they deftly cope.
Hormones dance, in their skilled hands,
A symphony of treatment, as fate demands.
Systemic remedies, meticulously planned,
To heal, to mend, where disease expands.
They sit with patients, hearts entwined,
Discussing paths, both harsh and kind.
Coordinating care with surgical might,
Radiant beams to conquer night.
In multidisciplinary teams they find,
The strength to battle, hearts aligned.
Personalized plans, tailored with care,
For each unique journey they bear.
Crucial guides through stormy seas,
Navigating with grace, with ease.
Compassion flows from depths within,
A healer's touch, a sacred hymn.
Oncologists, warriors of the soul,
Bringing healing, making whole.
In their hands, we place our trust,
For in their care, we find our just.
So let us honor, with grateful hearts,
These guardians of life's delicate parts.
For in their dedication, we see,
The true essence of humanity.
