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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2149737
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
Die.

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

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

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

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

© Copyright 2018 Joe DeLucia (joedelucia at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2149737