By Sandra Osborne

Pain in my feet
With pincushion fingers.
Blurred double vision,
Exhaustion that lingers.

I thought it was fat,
That I had to avoid.
Turns out it was sugar,
No, I’m not paranoid.

Thirsty? Yes, always.
Tired? Exercise.
Hungry? Can’t eat,
Gained another full size.

Blood sugar up,
Blood sugar down.
Feels both the same,
And my heart still pounds.

The pills aren’t a cure,
Insulin either,
A meter to measure
My angry blood fever.

No eating for fun,
No ice cream for me,
Have I seen the last sunrise
That I’ll ever see?

My doctor say’s ‘Manage’
My friends all just worry,
Seems I’m living my life
In one damn big hurry.

It’s a lonely disease
And it fogs up my brain,
Drains all my strength,
And then, there’s the pain.

So chop off my feet,
And I’ll get a Rascal,
This diabetic life,
It’s more than a hassle.

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