Euthanasia Again - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
She nodded when the doctor asked
'you're sure you want to go my dear? '
Out on the balcony there basked
the nephew and the niece, both here
because they'd heard that it looked bad
and that the rellies would be sad
but medicine was out of tricks
an ancient heart would cease its ticks.
She felt a bit, well, let's say rushed
and while the house was quiet, hushed
the doctor had now drawn the stuff
into the big syringe, ENOUGH!
He would have been a brutal killer
but murdering poor Esmae Miller
was not what doctors ought to do.
That's what I think. How about you?
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