Step into a room, lift up the right sleeve
Look away, as the needle pierces your skin
Wait another second let the nurse do her job
Now wait ten days to hear the results

Step into the room, sit on the chair
Look towards the doctor, as he struggles to speak
His move trembles like a crying baby
He fears releasing those harsh words

“You have diabetes, not type 1, but type 2
Go buy yourself needles, swabs, and pills
No insulin yet, you aren’t too sick
Balance your diet to remain fit”

Money is scarce you are afraid
You pay two grand every month to be okay
Bills pile up, your job days are cut off
You have diabetes type 1, not type 2

Money is scarce, you are afraid
You pay two grand every month to be okay
Bills pile up, your job days are cut off
You start a new life today

Step into a room, take out the needles
Pinch yourself; watch the blood sneak out your skin
Look at your fingers they are rough and scaly
Scaly like a snake, scaly like a lizard.

Look into a mirror
Can you see the black bags under my eyes?
The lack of sleep wares me out
Damn I am mad at myself I need to shout!

Sweets, goods—forbidden to eat
Watching my diet like a bodyguard watching a celeb
Staring at my sister eating with no limits
Staring at my plate just veggies and soup

I must starve myself
I pity myself
Damn the day I got diabetes type two


Diabetes let me live
And be the happy person my daughter is
The life I lost ten days ago
I refuse to be the pessimist status quo.