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
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Alex Avatar
September 3, 2022 at 1:19 AM
Hearing from you after a long time. Very beautiful work.
Radhakrishna Avatar
September 3, 2022 at 8:52 PM
Thanks Christuraj! Been busy with other things in life!! Hope you are well!
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace