The life of a Diabetic
Sick in the hospital
Diabetes has me here again
My pumps not working
All my panceras is, is dead.
The fingerprivks are killing me
Making me bleed red.
Carbs?
You better count them!
Units?
You better count them?
Meds?
You better take them!
The highs and the lows
Are difficult to manage.
The feeling of being alone is killing me in and oiut.
No one gets it
No one understands.
We need a curte now
We need to be free.
This poem is about:
Me
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: