Long Abortion Poems

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Premium Member Truth Matters

Truth Matters

Deplorable. 
That is what I am. 
That is okay with me. 
I work hard, 
Have a family. 
I support my wife, 
and my own kids. 
I even adopted a couple…

I am made to pay. 
I am made to do what I do not want to do. 
I am less than my forefathers, 
because I have allowed the works of evil men, 
to lead this nation into a bad place. 

Under the pretense of fairness, 
they have turned my good nature into…
loss and despair. 
They have given my hard earned wages, 
to those that take and do not give at all. 
Those that live off my country, my nation, 
and refuse to swear allegiance to her very soul.
“In God We Trust”

They kill babies, in the name of freedom?
I want to scream out, “Whose?”
Murder is murder, 
in any dictionary. 
You can change the definition in writing, 
but the intent of the heart, 
will never be different. 
Evil is evil. 
Then and now. 

Voices;
Lifted up in places, far and wide. 
Angry and awake, not sleepy anymore. 
Robbers go to jail. 
Murderers, should never see daylight again. 
There are NO Sanctuary cities!
Those that hurt the meek, 
shall be placed in the dark, 
and forgotten… forever…
Those that helped them, 
There is reserved and even better address.
One that best suits the allegiance between 
betrayal, deceit, and scum.  

The time is getting close at hand, 
when truth will no longer be kept silent. 
Things will be seen by all, 
and choices will be made. 

Note the slowness of our citizens, 
to listen to authority. 
Staying out on the beaches…
Soon, there will also be silence. 
And no one…
will tell anyone…
anything…
anymore!
© Ann Foster  Create an image from this poem.


Child of Tomorrow

Here you are an innocent little girl,
just starting to learn what goes on in this world.
You don't know yet that life can be cruel,
so you sing and dance your whole day through.

Now you are beginning to feel the things a woman desires,
never thinking of what may transpire–
You little girl, are the woman of tomorrow!
It is you that may experience a life with sorrow!

Why do you let yourself be so easy?
How is it you're so blind to see
that while you run around
chasing many men in town,
a new life is living inside of you?

Ignorance to reality–you cannot ignore.
What was fun and a game–is no more.
Think now of this child growing inside of you,
the choice of life or death–think it through!

It is not only about you, but the child in you.
Does it scare you because you can’t live as you do?
Do you know your life will be tied with a thousand strings
as you raise the life of another being?

You could end the life of what you call your mistake.
Think long and hard about the decision you make.
You will live your life now and forever,
never can you erase that you ended the child of tomorrow!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member My oblivious eye

Here on the cusp of all things, is where I succumb 
Ceding my stuff blindly, toward oblivion and none 
Unwilling to persevere, without a modicum of fun 
Listing in perpetual stasis, til the spasm’s undone 

And yet a god may save me, or a talisman of love 
Some prophet of euphoria, quelling ennui thereof 
Placing good tidings, into a universal equation 
Edifying eternity…..revealing its exact duration…..

Alas he speaks in riddles, and treads a mobius strip
Each cycle forming a twist, convoluting his trip
Determined I follow, my awareness in collapse 
Narrow-mindedly stumbling into mortality traps 

Now I sense the endgame, but decline to exalt 
Its a distortion, an abortion, a cataclysmic fault 
Chance meeting with a nihilist, yields positive results 
Unable to see past zero, he reveals nothing but cults

Here on the cusp of all things, is where I begun
A contorted brain-f*ck, had no choice but to come 
A demon of clarity, with an open ended measure 
One who gives to please, but prefers taking pleasure 

To believe for one moment, I’d live off a dying spark 
Only denies potential, when again life goes dark 
With more light to come, my sunglasses prepared 
Eternity’s not polarised, just infinitely layered 

If a blind man articulates, I’ve seen all this before
Screaming and convinced “I’m a seer at my core”
Could be he’s mistaken, or deluded with Déjà vu 
Begs his final question, “do I have a point of view”?
Form: Rhyme

Socialization

Socialization

When does socialization become sexualization?
When does socialization become sabotaging?

Socialization isn't sexualization
Socialization isn't sabotaging
Saboteur isn't a socialist
Socialization isn't sacrilege 
A socialist isn't a sacrosanct
Socialism isn't sadism
A sadist isn't a socialist
Salacious isn't socialization
Socialization isn't admitting safe sex
A satanic isn't a socialist
A socialist isn't a scandal monger
Screwy isn't socialization
A socialist will not be scruffy
Socialization isn't scurrilous
Seamy isn't socialization
Seduction isn't socialization
A socialist isn't seductress
Sociality is morality..

©® 27/12/17... Junaid Abdul Wakeel. #YoungWriter
Form: Pastoral

Stories of Teardrops In the Moonlight

I was sitting beside the driver’s seat, quite a stress!
We were traveling back, from the mosque to address.
We barely talk on topics. So, continuous silence.
And I could see those long and winding tracks 
Those turning, shifting, puzzling, vigilant trails!

Did we ever love each other? I think often
I often thought quite seriously, trying deeper,
To make a connection of those scattered dots.
And, I struggle to find the rhythm, with words
Thus, I feel, I lost it altogether, once and for all.

I asked for peace only to dispose of it in denial
I urged for a dream, and nothing felt right, at all.
I longed for a walk, remained a dream yet to convey.
I held my little ones closer, only to lose them, slow...
Finally, I wanted death, this, I may proceed, I know.

I was frozen, in a fix. And I was informed then
A tiny little soul was growing inside my womb.
A good, wise doctor was educating me about abortion
A cautious choice, but, a wound with a legitimate core...
A few days ago, he turned eight; looks just like his father.

I came back, and I lost it all. Nothing left intact now.
Each phase of bitter cold snatched a piece of warmth  
Inside me. Then my agony was melting my courageous
High down.  Enigmatic views on the window glass, elusive.
I saw my hidden stories of teardrops in the moonlight, there.


Scorched Earth

I can feel this heartbeat, gentle rhythm deep 
under my feet, I can feel the blood seep… 

I keep it clean, I can feel the scorched earth weep, 
what have we done Dear God, this earth reeks… 

are the Kings playing for the throne
as the destruction is nigh, the media alight
I can feel this misplace holy war 
the suicidal tirade of adolescent apes...

Burning tribes living in turmoil 
long are the days on this fleeting earth 
the righteous are holy in immaculate rebirth 
only to find a cinder of ash, cold at last

A faltering distant earth, holy are days
scorched burnt black, as attrition’s warfare 
breaks this crust of a lost infinite earth...

I can feel it’s heartbeat, gentle rhythm creep 
inside my mind, I can feel the blood weep… 

I keep my thoughts intact
I can hear this scorched earth seep, 
        what have we done Dear God, this earth is bleak… 

An Orange King is enthroned, as the destruction is nigh
I can feel this misplace holy war the suicidal, high.
Form: Rhyme

The World's Only Capture (Angel of Sadness)

Only my saviors childs are the this worlds capture
We sinners live to see the rapture
It was something more than a catastrophe
My conscience steadily asking me
Is the plan still to live life severe and disaster free?
My dreams are exhausted, seems temptation has reached the sky’s 
Sinners become saints, attempting to figure which prophecy lies
Veins constantly bleeding, I can feel my soul leaving
Yet I’m forever breathing
The curse of Kane
No flu shots cause I’m never sneezing 
Seems my misery is ever pleasing 
And with the mourning after
I wonder why these children are your lords only capture
Yet we sinners live to see the rapture
Label me sexiest, homophobic, homosexuals baring arms in marriage
A third of the world is gone
Bury baby Jesus with charms in his carriage
Execution of minors
I guess there’s nothing in this life finer
Dear child I watched your mother scrub the windows of that diner
Who am I to say that you are wrong? 
But who are you to weigh that child and determine if he’ll live long
Mr. President consistently stepping over hurricane victims
Misery no longer worry’s my pain, I can see it’s only a sitcom
Do you remember nine/eleven 
Simply because that September, down south was your only heaven
And as you galloped with the clouds 
Alqueda stood on it’s soil, it’s dust and dirt proud
But then again I’m wrong to speak out
But I guess making home is what being weak is about
A woman’s right is abortion
Perhaps it’s wrong but it’s only a portion
The tragedy’s we smile to see
The happy times are where we suffered above tiles to be
Breathing on my last breath
Leading my last steps 
Of coarse the worlds gone end
But it seems my saviors childs are the worlds only capture

Dear Mommy

Dear Mommy, it's me again, 
The reminder of your sin.
It is still months before I am supposed to be born, 
Against me your mother did warn.
She warned you not to have unprotected sex,
But you still weren't prepared for this test. 
Even though neither of you want me, your mother still tries to persuade you to keep me, 
But you refuse to hear her plea.
Did you know by now I have fingers and toes, 
And a cute button nose?
I hear you cry at night,
How I wish I could hold you tight.
If you could just see all I would do...
Is love you. 
You would be so happy, 
Because you would have me.
Always and forever...
I would love you no matter what storms we may weather. 
So before I die...
I will once again make you cry.
Think of me,
While you weigh my plea...
Don't yet let me go into that white light,
When I could be the greatest gift of your life.
Look inside and set your soul free...
Look inside, Mommy, and find ME!!!
Form: Rhyme

The Past Is Still a Part of Me

I couldn't save my dad... I trust so easily I  up my life.. I get ed over so much... Ive been raped 3 times... Ive been pregnant before... Ive almost committed suicide more times then i can count, Ive cut myself before... Im... Im a ****... Im a sex addict... And that scares the living hell out of me.... I have a REALLY ed up past... My mom will never love and accept me for who I am, my mom will never be proud of me... My mom will never understand me.
All my life I have been judged because that's the kind of people I was raised around, and that's not right. You shouldn't judge a book by it's cover.

A lot of people say that I look young and/or innocent, and they judge that based on how I look but they never stop to ask about me, they ask how I'm doing, but all I have to do is say a polite "I'm doing good" and theyre satisfied. And that makes me sad.

The Poison They Call Love

Dear Diary, 
I really think I'm ugly 
It's been 16 years 
And my mom still doesn't notice me 
My dad shows me attention 
But his intensions I do dislike 
He only shows me this "attention" in suspension 
When he dims the lights 
And I told my mom about this
Actually many times
But I guess its kinna true 
When they say love is blind 

But see I tried to escape this "love" 
With something wild 
I met a boy and let him in 
To see my other sides 
We spoke on things 
Like secrets goals and future plans 
I asked him "will you build a life with me?"
He said "it depends" 
"Depends on what?" 
He said "I need to get your body first" 
I said "ok then have it" 
He said "let's commence" 

I was only looking for some love 
If you could see 
I went John Legend on this boy 
And gave him all of me 

For the first time in a long time 
I felt a bond 
And its incredible that feeling 
When we both made one 
But as you know 
These things are quick to finish not to last 
He got his clothes, unlock the door 
And said let's have a chat 
"I'm inlove with you my dear
Your body and your soul 
And I look for ward to be by your side 
As we grow old" 

As we grow old? 
It was a month and his discard my texts 
But then he finally replied 
Saying there's someone else
And see I said to him the same 
Because a human being 
Is twisting, turning, breathing,
Growing up inside of me

He denied that it was his 
So I denied that it was mine 
Society is funny 
They wouldn't accept my child 
So I did you all a favor 
Hope you can thank me later

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