Euthanasia

At times, I feel I'm out of choices.

Perhaps all the fingers of accusation
I've encountered are mere reminders
of how inhumane mercy killers can be.

Some mother even clutched
my neck yesterday, while repeating
that I should've never been in this field.
"You are heartless", she mourned in tears.
This is what everybody has made of me,
I heard myself say.
But I swear I've done
everything God couldn't do
to waken her only son.

When she first brought him into my office,
he had a little soul, put out skin,
and arid pupils.
I knew there was no hope,
for illness was already
eating his faint beatings.
But I sugarcoated hope for her,
believing that everything is prone to be cured
with just a grin.

Maybe I didn't learn from my past mistakes.
Maybe I should've went more straight.
"Your son, dear, is going to die.
Don't bother yourself. I'm just a doctor.
Not God."

If only she saw my eyes shutting
when all machines were switched off.
If only she knew I'm just as wired
as her lamented son was...