This Disease Doctors Call Aids
Billy, my brother who is no longer with me.
I think about that day July 13.
The phone called I received from my sister
telling me that you are gone.
I cried that day and I continue to cry because that day you died.
Some asked how did he die? And I would say you had cancer
because I am ashamed to tell them the real story.
The truth about what happened to you,
how you were very sick yet you tried to pretend
that everything was ok.
How you would walk around on a cane
due to a disease doctors called aids.
No one wants to know truth because then they would label you
and say well he was promiscuous,
but that's not true you told me one lady did this to you.
One time with her resulted in the death of you
on July 13, 2010;
the day I lost my friend.
Share This Poem