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The Aborted Baby: The Crying Fetus

by Patricia Joan Polhans

I saw Jesus holding 'thin his hands
An aborted baby, killed by man.
She'd done nothing to deserve this fate
Though, in his hands she silently waits

As those came seeking out her young life,
Standing there, all dressed in tainted white.
Whether to live or die was not her choice.
She was never giv'n and alt'ring voice.

She pleaded for her life but no one heard
The screaming cries as her heart was stirred.
Now, she lay lifeless 'thin the Master's hands
This was ne'er his will, and ne'er His plans.

It brought sharp tears to the Father's eyes
For she 'as a special gift, child of Christ.
Many questions had filled her wee thoughts.
Struggling to live, many answers she sought.

What had she done and what did mom fear,
From a little child that God called dear?
What problems mom had, she knew not of,
As she gazed through precious eyes of love.

Mom 'll never count small fingers 'n' toes,
Nor watch her as she quietly grows.
She'll never know the preciousness of
A child giving her a kiss of love.

What'd she done deserving this horrid fate?
An innocent child, yet, her life they'd take.
Hear her desperate cries! Hear her faint pleas!
"Mama! Mama! Oh, dear Mama, please!"

"I'll be a good girl, I won't ever cry.
I'll even do chores, just don't let me die!"
But only silence filled the Master's hands.
As the child lay lifeless, not breathing 'gain.

Now she'll never look in mother's eyes
As she sings to her sweet lullabyes.
She'll ne'er stroll in the park near her father
Or feel the loving arms of a mother.

Some called her nothing but a fetus
But, now, she lay in the hands of Jesus!
Why did she have to come to this fate?
No help for her now, it's just too late!
ribbon
This poem was a finalist in the October 2008 poetry contest

Please contact Patricia Joan Polhans at "polhanspatricia@yahoo.com" to request permission to use this poem.

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