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​

No Voice

 

I'm not sure where I am

But I feel so very secure, 

Like nothing could ever harm me 

No pain should I endure. 

 

I hear a little noise 

It sounds like thump, thump, 

I think the organ is my heart 

Through which my blood does pump. 

 

So from what I understand 

I have a mommy and a dad, 

But for some unknown reason 

My mommy seems so sad. 

 

I overheard her talking 

To a friend of hers last night,

They were debating over abortion

Whether it's wrong or is it right. 

 

One argued it was life 

The other said it was choice, 

But in all this crazy chaos 

Where do I get my voice? 

 

I hear a door open and close

"This is the clinic"

        said a woman named Kate 

"Just fill out this form 

Then have a seat and wait".

 

Wait for what? I began to wonder 

What are we doing here?,

Kate said it was an abortion clinic 

And oh how I began to fear. 

 

What is Mommy doing?

I haven't done anything wrong,

Please just love and keep me

And let my days be long.

 

The nurse called her name 

And said to come on back, 

When we walked into the room 

Across the room there was a sack. 

 

A trash bag full of babies 

Little humans they call tissue,

Whether you're pro choice or pro life 

That trash bag is the issue. 

 

Created in the image of God

My little body is thriving,

Yet in this very room

I stand no chance of surviving. 

 

Mommy lays down on the table 

I prepare myself to die, 

the suction is ripping my limbs 

it's time to say good bye.

                          ~Angela Hart, 1990

 

 

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