“I’ll be alright without a lollypop,” the kid told the woman

It was what his mom always told him

His dad too

But deep inside he knew the truth

He wanted a lollypop

All his friends had them – after the doctor’s office or a haircut or at the candy shop

Even at Christmas

It was a notion he couldn’t dismiss

But his mom said they were for sick kids

His dad said they were for crybabies

But it was what he’d wanted since the 80s

Swirly candies on a stick

Blueberry, raspberry – every flavor

He’d never cried during a haircut, been to the candy store, or been sick

At 38-years-old all his friends were ill

He now sat there inside the hospital

Watching them all

Strangely they all had lollipops at their bedsides

He remembered back when

They all had lollipops in hand all the time

Now their parents and kids weren’t around to watch them die

As he watched hospital staff come and go

Lines on the telemetry screen ebbed and flowed

His mouth didn’t water

A commercial on the TV in the room was for lollipops

He heard fluid in the IV bag drop

Stunned at the revelation

He was glad he never bothered

Many lines went flat that day – several of his friends’

Hospital and pharmacy administrators came in

“Would you like a lollipop?” they asked

“I’ll be alright without one,” he said as he passed

His parents knew and he’d lived to see too

Those hard candies on a stick were poisonous hues

The man, once little, left the hospital

Let his hair grow out

Didn’t cry about his friends who were now out

He thanked his parents

He grew a garden right next to the candy shop

Studied epidemiology, didn’t quite go to medical school

Ate fruit on holiday

Shared the colors of vegetables, beautiful antidotes

And he said, “I turned out alright without a lollypop.”