WARNING: This poem contains references to capital and corporal punishment, as well as to assisted suicide, in their many forms, which some viewers may find disturbing. Reader discretion is advised.
In Canada, death comes easy
They leave you in a room
Just you and a pill
A little green pill and
A glass of water
In the states, you can really
Pick your poison;
Wanna be hanged?
Wanna be guillotined? Electrocuted?
Wanna be injected with muscle relaxants
So onlookers can't see you burn alive when they fill your veins
With fire that slowly crawls toward your beating heart
and stops it?
The catch is, of course,
You have to take someone else with you
Maybe a whole school of someones
And that's hardly ethical
No, no,
Hardly ethical.
In the ancient code of Hammurabi, death begets death.
Its means are no matter,
Save for that the pain of the victim be dealt to the victor,
An equity that exists even now in some places.
This is ethical.
To the Canadians who offer death to the indebted,
It is ethical to do so.
To the States-ians who command death to criminals
And give it freely to vegetables,
It is ethical to do so.
To the Buddhists of the world who believe that all life is valuable
And would rather let sick animals rot to death than be their hangman's hands,
It is ethical, ethical, ethical!
Would you interfere in the natural course of life
Upon which the Gods have decided?
Surely not!
There are always means to justify your end
Seppuku, utilitarianism, heroism, identity
Tragedy or mercy,
The distinction is fictitious.
All will be felt
When they stare at your corpse
YOU ARE READING
Something Unbearably Pretentious
PoesíaA collection of poetry in no particular order and on no particular subject. Don't mind the cover, I didn't want to spend time making one so I'm using a scan of a drawing page full of this guy I made who kinda looks like how the internet draws Spamto...
