OctPoWriMo Day 3: Taste of Metal

He entered the world screaming
In the way that all of us do;
There were cold hands, shining lights
And a brief taste of metal
Before finally being drawn
To heartbeating warmth, and life.

He went through life dreaming
In the way that some of us do.
There was love, shining bright,
To help him prove his mettle
Even when downtrodden, worn.
Yet still the joys were rife.

He left the clinic feeling,
In the way that most of us do,
That there were options: fight, fright or flight?
Blood in his mouth brought back metal.
For him there would be no new dawn.
Yet in one life, he'd lived a thousand lives.

He left the world reeling
In a way that few of us do:
Barbiturates freezing his throat tight
With a cold taste of metal
Before being mercifully torn
At his behest, from his life.

*based on https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terry_Pratchett:_Choosing_to_Die