Human euthanasia: a poem

I wanted to write something about human euthanasia, and how I feel about the current state of end-of-life care.

I’ve talked about in a blog before, and very little has changed, so I wondered what would be the point of talking about it again. Nevertheless, I thought I’d sit down to try.

Last time, I took a clinical and logical approach, but this time I wanted to capture my emotional response, my feelings about what will happen to many of us as we approach the point where our bodies no longer function enough to support our lives. To my surprise, I discovered a poem bubbling up in my head; this is a rare occurrence for me, so I wrote it down for posterity, and now it’s your problem.

So, in lieu of a blog, here is my emotional response to the debate around human euthanasia, inspired by Wilfred Owen’s Dulce et Decorum Est. It’s neither balanced nor fair, but it’s how I feel. I hope it at least produces some feelings within you; if not, don’t worry – normal service will be resumed soon, I promise.

End of Life

If you could see

(as I have seen)

the final, desperate gasps

of life, worn and deathly sheen

but clinging to the last;

if you could taste

the bitter breaths

from lungs beyond repair

and feel the thud of useless blood

and meet that empty stare

my friend, you would not speak with such high zeal

of sanctity

and playing God

and talk of slippery slopes

no matter what beleaguered flesh can feel

and no matter what it hopes.