There was a baby born today
In bits and pieces, torn away.
Dumped in a bucket to be disposed
Were arms and legs, his heart exposed,
Little fingers, and little toes,
Blood, and particles, and bits of nose.
There was no funeral, or even grief.
His Mommy only sighed relief.
She didn't hear his cries of pain
Or feel his struggle to remain.
"My ‘choice'", she said. "It's best for me!"
But then, what would his ‘choice' be?
T'was all so very clinical and legal,
Murderously in the land of the eagle.
Just for a second, let's take a look.
Examine the remains of the life she took.
Blood stained fingers still left a print.
His DNA shows the good Lord's intent.
The Examiner can see the strands,
The evidence of his life still stands.
Even though no name was given
His destiny should not be riven.
His identity you cannot negate,
Alive or dead, whatever his fate.
I can't understand, it just can't be!
Is this a nightmare or reality?
Before he took a single breath
Innocence was condemned to death.
It's bad enough for just this one.
How many will die before it's done?
Silent cries of children ring.
The bell tolls and the angels sing.
There are millions knocking at heaven's door--
Take them home with you Lord, forevermore.
Thank God Mary never made that ‘choice'.
Silenced not was His small voice!
