Poetry: It's My Life
She’d had a busy life with independence being key
Made her own decisions lived her lifetime proud and free
Time ticked by, old age arrived, her health was getting rough
She began to feel she’d reached the point where she’d had enough.
A stroke took her mobility, imprisoned her in bed
Living just seemed pointless, she might as well be dead
She made a plan to end it all and leave the pain behind
She’d overdose her medicine, no doubt was in her mind
She’d put her affairs in order, her intention was quite clear
Struggled to write a farewell note for those near and dear
She was ready for her exit she only felt relief
She hoped for sweet release from all the torment and the grief.
She didn’t want to die alone, there was no other choice
People like her denied their rights by those with louder voice
She had no god to answer to, she had no fear of death
Her fear was of the suffering before her final breath.
She chose a day to leave the world with everything explained
She took the meds and closed her eyes, nobody could be blamed
Content that it was over, she hoped the end was certain,
But someone came to visit and foiled her final curtain.
She felt a jolt her eyes flew open blinking in the light
Her mind had clouded over, she’d forgotten her sad plight
Then she howled with abject terror that they’d dragged her back to life
And begged to be set free from all the agony and strife
We abide by ‘do no harm’, we can’t help you out you see.’
She thought, ‘Forcing me to live means you ARE harming me.’
They keep her well sedated but every time she wakes
She feels the horror once again and her poor heart breaks.
She cannot swallow so a tube is how they make her eat
She has no means to fight it so has to admit defeat
Skeletal body, gaping mouth an adult nappy on
Lying motionless and helpless, all dignity is gone
They said she’d go to a care home where she’d be supervised
She could not try this route again and take them by surprise
They hooked her up to this and that and she began to cry
Sentenced to months of torture, she wished they’d let her die.
Her life savings are forfeited to house her useless shell
This is truly her worst nightmare, a ghastly living hell
Just existing is not her choice, it’s cruel to make her stay
When she wished to say her farewells and gently slip away.
Name and address supplied
This poem first appeared in the Manx Independent on July 6.
Share your views with our readers.
Write to: Opinions, Isle of Man Examiner and Manx Independent, 18 Finch Road, Douglas, IM1 2PT or email:
Don’t forget to include your name, FULL home address and a daytime phone number even if you want to be anonymous in print.
Obviously, we need to be able to verify the identity of everyone whose letter we publish.
We don’t print phone numbers or full addresses and respect anonymity if the author requests it