The robin sings beyond the gate,
The lilacs breathe the air of spring,
And morning, with her hands of light,
Awakens every living thing.
The child unborn, the aging man,
The weary soul who walks alone,
Each bears a spark against the dark,
A fragile flame that is his own.
If life is sacred at its dawn,
When hidden from the human eye,
What changes in the turning years
That makes another fit to die?
The stars do not divide their light,
The rain does not choose where to fall;
The earth beneath our passing feet
Receives and shelters one and all.
I ask no answer from the wind
That wanders through the silver trees,
Only a question soft and still
That trembles on the evening breeze:
If life is holy from the first,
A gift no hand should cast away,
Can it be less a gift at dusk
Than when it greeted us at day?
Pro life chop shops
sanctity botched
chain your baby makers
inspect your baby’s crotch
laws ban
lives hang
hangers wrought and bought
the worst of how we’re natured
belts
you’re just another notch
fit in
or sin
resisting a rest
existing erased
pop up chop shops
for furl of brow and fraught
the worst of how we’re natured
belts
you’re just another notch
Composed for Emo-Music Inspired Poems
Poetry Contest by B.J. Fitz
CRIES OF THE HEART
Where wisteria like compassion always grows.
And being indifferent to humanity, is not in fashion.
Where all children from conception on....are all of great value.
A city where no new human life is ended.
Instead, it is a place where a human is a gift!
We take fond joy in, and in ever constant thanksgiving!
Without respect for life, the city dies, it has no heart.
It's citizens' eyes,darken and show no glow.
~And, the wisteria, no longer will grow!~
4/22/2022
Pro Life
Miracle Man Thoughts
2/11/2022
A bonnet of darkness shrouds the room,
and In early mornings hush I sit alone,
dredging names and images from my past.
While picking through scraps of colorless dreams,
I endeavor to match names to faces,
crowded out by thoughts God has placed before me.
The homeless person that has no passion,
The grateful sparrow that begs for cornbread crumbs,
And the fetus that some other has decided
will never have a life story to tell.
In a distant land a hungry little girl is crying
Tear-stained cheeks, watery eyes
Unseeing, the malnourished child dying
Her nose clogging up with nasty blow flies
Why, in the name of God, was she ever born?
In an urban ghetto a young teenager
Runs reddened hands over a swollen belly
Endures the wrath of her drunken father
Spends most of her days in front of a telly
What does the future hold for this baby?
It is easy to spout off the “pro-life” slogans
Or simply quote sacred texts from long ago,
But facing the facts in real-life situations
How far does concern, or, your money, go?
Who cares if unwanted children
Abound all over this earth?
Someone else can feed them
Until they have proven their worth!
Of course we shall disgrace them
Until they learn their place
Somewhat less than human and
Completely devoid of Grace!
Pro-lifers must believe their God
Is an old, incompetent fool
Who simply can't remember
What they learned in Sunday School.
Freedom of Choice is an issue
Pro-lifers will never forgive
They MUST have the right to dictate
Exactly how others must live!
Just a tiny clot
God's holy Sanctuary
Would that man cherish.
Has this ever been a choice you had to make
Considering life or death ~ deciding anothers fate
Who has the right to judge if and when one procreates
Should politicians or priests decide what’s at stake
What about the child who’s raped ~ does she have a say
Which choice is right ~ keep the child ~ give him away
A mother carrying a child with an abnormality ~ what’s right
To watch her child suffer ~ witness his fatality ~ what a sight
Is it fair to say if you decide to abort ~ you don’t care
I don’t claim to have an answer here ~ but say this I wouldn’t dare
I wouldn’t dare ~ it’s not fair ~ I wouldn’t dare
This choice is the most difficult for anyone to bare
Lay
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