My right shoulder sags from the weight of my bag,
Hunched and contorted like an old wizened hag,
For it?s filled with the gubbins and sundry detritus
That accompany the treatment of diabetes mellitus.
Oodles of needle tips, both new and used,
A litter-strewn wasteland that cannot be excused,
Tear-offs and needle caps, those small plastic bits
That cover the pointy part that goes into my hips,
There for emergencies, ten jelly babies,
Test strips as bloody as the rivers of Hades,
A wallet, my credit cards, a blood testing diary,
A packet of dextrose that is well-past expiry,
Pens for my insulin, both slow and fast,
Without them my next meal may well be my last,
Drugs for a headache, tickets and keys,
A small wad of tissues in case I should sneeze,
Lancets and cereal bars, a small book to read,
A prescription for pills that I no longer need,
My bag could be emptied of half of this stuff,
So I think it is time that enough is enough!
Out with the rubbish and clinical waste,
Out with the dextrose ? I don?t like the taste!
Without all this in it my bag will be light,
Do you think I should do it? I think that I might!