Murder In the Operating Room

I'm a doctor who murdered a man in the OR. I lost my medical license and I'm behind bars. The bastard took a life with his gun. The person who he killed was my son. He fooled the jury into believing that he was innocent. I was so angry and I made sure that Hell was where he was sent. When he killed my son, I was blinded by rage and devastation. When I had that animal in the OR, I botched the operation. I ask myself if others would do what I did and I believe they would. When I saw that heartless monster flatline, it felt so damn good! I was convicted of first degree murder and now I'm on death row. If you're wondering if I'm sorry for what I did, the answer is no. (This is a fictional poem.)