deepundergroundpoetry.com
Twenty Four
In twenty four seconds a life is erased
Two arms and two legs and a nose on a face
A beating heart ceased, bright eyes cannot see
Their newly formed lungs will not let them breathe
Thirty six hundred to daily dispose
Seventy two thousand fingers and toes
Who gave us charge to value their life-
As worthless, imperfect, a burden, a strife?
One point two million, each year become none
Daughters and fathers, mothers and sons
Nameless they are as they are thrown away
Never will they feel the warmth of the day
Such greed that exists for the one who will choose
As Death does perfect his infant sized noose
Under four hundred, a price that is set
To slaughter a child, impregnate regret
They will not love, will not feel, will not be
Never will they break their heart, take a knee
An ode to the silenced, forgotten and gone
Created in love yet dead before dawn
I call out the man who cares not for the child
No coroner called for the corpses that pile
No gravestone is made for the ones who are lost
With pain, endless grief added in to the cost
When you call for Death, you are not a man
Slapping away at the out-reaching hand
How can you think you’re the strongest of all?
I’m biting my tongue while little ones fall
I plead to the woman to think and then act
Despair damaging, adding weight to their back
My mother, alone, raised two in her home
We struggled and groaned, yet now we are grown
Scars will be felt as long as your days
Hopeless and anguished will now be your ways
No choice ever made will burn hot like coal
Aborting creation will damage the soul
The choices we make disfigure the earth
More than the wars that leave blood in the dirt
The quest to find peace will never be found
While we murder children who don’t touch the ground
Two arms and two legs and a nose on a face
A beating heart ceased, bright eyes cannot see
Their newly formed lungs will not let them breathe
Thirty six hundred to daily dispose
Seventy two thousand fingers and toes
Who gave us charge to value their life-
As worthless, imperfect, a burden, a strife?
One point two million, each year become none
Daughters and fathers, mothers and sons
Nameless they are as they are thrown away
Never will they feel the warmth of the day
Such greed that exists for the one who will choose
As Death does perfect his infant sized noose
Under four hundred, a price that is set
To slaughter a child, impregnate regret
They will not love, will not feel, will not be
Never will they break their heart, take a knee
An ode to the silenced, forgotten and gone
Created in love yet dead before dawn
I call out the man who cares not for the child
No coroner called for the corpses that pile
No gravestone is made for the ones who are lost
With pain, endless grief added in to the cost
When you call for Death, you are not a man
Slapping away at the out-reaching hand
How can you think you’re the strongest of all?
I’m biting my tongue while little ones fall
I plead to the woman to think and then act
Despair damaging, adding weight to their back
My mother, alone, raised two in her home
We struggled and groaned, yet now we are grown
Scars will be felt as long as your days
Hopeless and anguished will now be your ways
No choice ever made will burn hot like coal
Aborting creation will damage the soul
The choices we make disfigure the earth
More than the wars that leave blood in the dirt
The quest to find peace will never be found
While we murder children who don’t touch the ground
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