Son played on… and on

I knew Son Seals,
His band played rough.
Blues,
Unedited, raw,
True.
Know I now, how his pain must feel,
Diabetes, wearing away your body
But not your soul.
BB suffered too, by that time
His wealth buffered
‘Gainst numbness, and with his right foot
‘B’ tapped out rhyme.
Son stayed struggling —
His sandpaper life — the scratchy side
For him, no suicide
A bullet to the face,
Lower extremity amputation
Yet he maintained syncopation
Right to the last of his playin’ on–
Beautiful blue songs!