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Rated: E · Poetry · Medical · #2149737
Each time a physician declares someone dead, a stain is placed upon his soul.
Stains On My Soul

By Joe DeLucia

You’re not dead until I say die,
Rescus stops when I say so.
How hard you try to stay alive.
No one wants to

One last gasp, yell for Momma,
Heart struggles, feeble pulses.
Unaware, you still fight,
For one more minute of

All the same, instincts strong,
Shaken baby, hospice grandma,
Brotha shot, drunk driver victim,
One quest in common to

Young, old, middle-aged,
Numerous ways to die.
No matter who, what, why or how,
Results are all the same

I look into your eyes, wanting
They say don’t stop, please.
The end, I pronounce you dead.
One more stain upon my

© Copyright 2018 Joe DeLucia (joedelucia at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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