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  • Writer's pictureGary the Poet's Pen

The Womb And The Tomb

I remember the first time I heard my own mother’s heartbeat

A steady beating within my insulated cocoon and tiny retreat,

I became more developed and heard many other sounds, too

There was crying when she contemplated what she would do.

I do not know what a burden is, but it appears I am now one

I do not know what light is; I wonder if I shall ever see the sun,

I can feel her many moods especially when she is melancholy

If she could see the little girl I would become; a giggling dolly.

The day had come to get the deed done and so we went out

My momma was sobbing and let out many a horrific shout,

I heard the sounds of instruments which brutally attacked me

Although I could not prevent the gore and the total brutality.

My angel had come to take me back home to a place of rest

She hugged me tightly and my flaxen hair she sweetly caressed,

I hope that I do not get sent back to endure more suffering

I believe I experienced an abortion; a tragic and a toxic thing.

I play with other children like me who were flippantly discarded

I was ripped limb from limb as an apple tree eagerly bombarded,

I went to the Earth with the promise of life into my mother’s womb.

With the actuation of her act of abortion, this instead was my tomb.

Will this be your choice for the life inside of you, a painful portion?

I described to you what it truly feels like to experience an abortion.

Written by me in God be the glory

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