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Mar 2018
Assisted suicide...

The white coats are waiting
Little pills to stop the pain
All’s needed now is to swallow
To sleep and stop the shame

A shame that didn’t belong
A family left to morn
A journey already written
A body broken and worn

Go gently to the white coats
Keep my hand till you silently slip
Swallow down your shame, my father
I’ll remain till you lose your grip
Another poem relating to my fathers impending assisted suicide in Switzerland.... and I wonder why insomnia is my friend
victoria
Written by
victoria  40/F
(40/F)   
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