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THE PARTIAL BIRTH ABORTION
 
      
THE PARTIAL-BIRTH ABORTION
In memory of the aborted baby
 
 
The mother is on the table,
In a position to give birth.
The doctor is at her feet,
And there stands an attending nurse.
The baby is in the right position,
For the birth to take place,
But the doctor flips the baby over,
As the nurse turns her face.
The doctor reaches into the mother,
Pulling the baby's lower limbs,
Until the baby's head is almost out,
Now things get much more grim.
The placement of the baby's head,
Is now the doctor's greatest concern,
For if he lets it slip on out,
His job would then be done.
The cruel act that's happening,
Will get more gruesome as it goes.
The precious baby is almost out,
It can squirm and wiggle its toes.
The doctor holds the baby secure,
With the nape of the head in view.
He now inserts a deadly syringe,
Did you know?  Did you have a clue?
The baby's brains are now sucked out,
With no sorrow, guilt or care.
Its tiny fragile head caves in,
And death angel now is there.
The doctor smiles, his face aglow,
For he is proud it was a success,
And throws it aside like yesterday's garbage,
A gift from GOD that now looks grotesque.
What has society become today,
When an innocent life can be taken,
By those who vow to save lives,
But now their oath they've forsaken?
Are our leaders so vile and evil,
That human life means nothing at all?
How can they even sleep at night,
After passing this murderous law?
 
Rozita D. Martin
copyrighted
8/17/2000
Poems by Pancakke
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