The sugar “brings a diabetes” or two,
Depending on the nurse who catches you.
At times, you get away with stinky looks.
At times, you get a jab of insulin.
The ones in charge, the ones _you_ keep in-charge,
The ones who live on _your_ retirement –
The nerves on them, sometimes, do get to you –
Ingrates, they embargo sugar cubes!
These sugar cubes cost you thirteen pills
Of pain alleviation medicine –
You had promised two weeks, but you counted wrong,
Or so you told the Hypoglycemic.
She has no use for those, except to buy
Her favourite rum raisins off Gouty Guy,
Who got away with every little thing
Because of all the pain he’s always in.
He’s not supposed to have your pain-relief,
She’s not supposed to have the alcohol,
And you are not supposed to have the cubes,
But such is how economies are freed!