What makes us human?

Is it that we can communicate with each other?

That we have a four chambered heart?

That we have the ability to rationalize?

But none of that is exclusive to humans

So what makes us human?

What marks the difference between people

And raving lunatics kept in rubber rooms?

What draws the line?

And if you cross the line to the other side

Can you come back?

If you change, does that mean you have to?

Does crossing that line mean interminable


As humans we suffer

So do we suffer as untamed creations as well?

And is it our choice to end suffering?

If it’s ours, of course

If it’s another’s, how could it be?

How can we make someone’s decision for them?

How can we willingly take another life into our hands

When we cannot control our own?

How can we accept responsibility?

And if we were to end another’s suffering

How could he live with it afterwards?

Is that what makes us human?

Regret, guilt?

Eating away like a corrosive acid

Destroying the patched-together lives we lead

Like spare parts haphazardly assembled into a misshapen mess

A half-finished project lying abandoned on the work bench

A half- baked idea, sitting in the oven of your mind

Rotating near the back like a stupid rotisserie chicken

Is having the power to end suffering good?

Does ir make it better to have the opportunity?

Or make it worse to have the choice

The choice where you decide

Whether someone lives or dies

The choice you make and the consequences you face

And must live with for forever

Evidently all of these questions go unanswered

Maybe the answers truly aren’t known

Maybe they’re hidden just below the surface

Or maybe they’re stashed away, for only some eyes

Wherever they are

Whenever they make an appearance

It’s not now

It’s not here

But be ready for them when they do

Be ready

Or face what we’ve been given


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