Assisted Suicide: The Right to Die

 

Sitting in a bed with walls

as white as sin all around

and a dread that permeates

the very air and ground

 

they force drugs deep, deep

into my ever rotting veins

to suspend my body in time

while away corrodes my mind.

 

As I plea for death

to a man clad all in white

he laughs on in my dreams

and denies me my right,

 

a right that’s as old

as the beginning of life

and allows me to take

what’s only ever been mine.

 

Despite this truth

still he and they turn away,

leaving me in bed to

drudge on each unbearable day

 

till I take action myself

or there is finally a change

in the thoughts of mankind

on the rights of life.