Trust Me

My name is Doctor Shipman

I’m here to ease your pain

I hear you’ve not been well at all

And me- I’m quite insane.

I see you’ve had a birthday

You’re seventy is that so?

You’re really getting on a bit.

I fear you’ll have to go

I don’t suppose you’ve made a will

But it matters not my dear

I’ve got a spare one in my bag

You simply sign down here.

Trust me, I’m a doctor

I’d never do you harm

Malingering ladies are gladly fooled

By my easy bedside charm.

Don’t ask me now, to count up how

Many death certs  I have signed.

Be happy I scrawl my name at all

For the coroner’s simply blind

No, I’m not that good with figures

And my conscience has necrosis

So, the numbers that really speak to me

Are the ones for lethal doses.

You’re better off with a pain free death.

You’ll thank me one day soon

We’ll legalise euthanasia

And then who will call the tune?

So now I hold your hand and smile

I’ll help, though help you spurn

Relax my dear as I open this vial

Today it is your turn.

Steve Blakesley ©  May 2002