Bringing Reason to the Atrocity of Abortion!

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A Poem

In 1800, English poet William Cowper wrote a poem, "Pity for Poor Africans", which read as follows:

I own I am shocked at the purchase of slaves,
And fear those who buy them and sell them are knaves;
What I hear of their hardships, their tortures, and groans,
Is almost enough to draw pity from stones.
I pity them greatly, but I must be mum,
For how could we do without sugar and rum?
Especially sugar, so needful we see?
What? Give up our desserts, our coffee, and tea!

I have "paraphrased" the poem here, to bring it up to date with the current situation:

I own I am shocked at the killing of babes,
And fear those who kill them are cold and depraved;
What I see of their bodies so brutally torn,
Is almost enough to cause stones to mourn.
I pity them greatly, but I must not say,
For how could we live with those brats in our way?
Especially those unwanted, unfit.
What? Allow them to live, with their snot and their shit?!

A visitor to the site submitted the following poem.


I was rescued... by people who meant well.
But they have no idea how it feels to go through hell.
They'll never know the grief I felt,
The bitter tears I cried.
I was rescued... but my precious baby died.

I was rescued... from responsibility
Of caring for that little one who lived inside of me.
That little child would be here now
If I had been more strong,
If my family had just told me
They'd support me, right or wrong.

In those moments of confusion
I just didn't think things through.
At the time abortion seemed to be
The best thing I could do.
They said I had the right to choose, but now I realize
It's better to be hurt by truth
Than comforted by lies.

I was rescued... but I have to take the blame.
I was rescued...and I'll never be the same.
I might have kept my little one if only I had tried.
I was rescued...but my precious baby died.

            The author prefers to remain "Anonymous"