After reading an article in my hometown's newspaper, I felt led to write the following....depending, it either makes me furious, or causes me to weep, seeing how blind our generation chooses to be....

A beating heart,
a working brain,
moving hands and feet.
I was one.
You were one.
All pass through this stage.
And yet,
despite the point-blank facts,
we,
who outgrew the womb,
now sit in the
highest judgment seat -
saying
Yea
or
Nay
to someone else's life.
A "fetus"?
Is that how we excuse
tearing apart,
limb by limb,
a living, breathing, moving
child?
For that is what
abortion does
to any
undesirable
being.
O, we great big children
of this old and ancient world,
do choose to act like spoiled infants;
we love the toy
of sex,
but only wile the "Fun" lasts.
The repercussions are too much;
a child
we cannot handle.
So throw the thing away!
Still use the toy,
but never dare
to
stoop and clean
our mess.
How can we sleep at night,
when
finally we realize,
that what we did,
had it been but short weeks later,
would be classified
as heartless tabloid murder?
A face...
staring up at me...
Eyes...
gazing happily at bright and brilliant colours...
A laugh...
Gurgles and giggles
and tiny plump toes;
All images
that forever will haunt me;
The images that might have been memories.
The toy
is not bad of itself,
but how we use it
determines its worth -
it's seeming
"good"ness
or "bad"ness.
Can we stand id'ly
while our world
blindly
stumbles along,
tearing
its own self apart?

Does wanting the sex
without
"Complications"
excuse the killing
of a
"Fetus"?
A being complete with

working brain

beating heart

and moving hands and feet.


by Corrie Morgan; 2009