Dr Harold Shipman

The mind is the devil, not the heart, when in doctor’s garbs, can’t tell apart, an engaging smile, then the death blow, some died real quick, some very slow. the touch was soft, voice saintly gentle, poured potion with love to dismantle, they drank never to wake up again, did they die in peace? was it in pain? went from home to home to rob the old, his eyes shone kindness, his heart was cold, He held their hands to win their deep trust, offered not cure, but eternal dust! His heart would have writhed within in strain, his conscience looked at him with disdain, yet mind was blinded by pure evil, curing hands were now tools of devil! No one immune to Satan’s designs, between good and cruel no clear lines, face no longer is index of mind, learn to peep farther, deeper behind! 3rd Placement Written 31/08/2022 9 syllables each line, 5 quatrains Joe Maverick Sponsored Harold Shipman contest