Three years after we last spoke, 
Lost in Christmas gossip 
Whether your Nephew 
Would get into what you had got him
On the way home from the cinema,
You walked past us on the bus
Fumbling in the darkness 
For the change in your pockets.

Three years after we last spoke, 
Buried in the shadows of your coat,
You stared down unable to look up,
Until you got off at your ex-girlfriend's
And stumbled across the road,
An effigy to a friendship
Cast aside in a bitter argument,
Which could have been handled better.  

Covered in bottles of Coke
And discounted cakes
A train wreck looking the other way, 
of the way Diabetes had ripped through you
Facing the music instead of
Living your life in simply a way
As if a memory of yourself before
Your body failed you. 

Six weeks later you were dead,
Your Facebook profile stating days before,
You had had heart problems. 
And an unwillingness to face,
What was happening to you,
Living on the edge of your life
Clearly for years after 
We stopped speaking, 

Six weeks later you were dead,
Another casualty of Diabetes
Took away all too early at 48,
Your Demons from your childhood
trapping you into bitterness
Never listening to what everybody else said
And you ignored your body 
Until it was all too late. 

(In memory John 1975 - 2024)