The Ethicality of a Woman's Choice

Anonymous

“How Selfish!”

A child screams

At a woman’s bump

At her seismic dreams

From a dozen beds

In a single room

From a home not his

And a fostered doom

From a baby’s form

In a garbage bin

Or discarded box

At the doors of Sin

“How Selfless!”

Her stretch marks scream

As she’s torn apart

At her sacred seams

Nine months gifted,

Nine months lost.

Would a man give in

To such a cost?

An ancient power.

A speck of dust

In an ancient tower

For some Danae’s son

“Abort the mission!”

A father screams,

“Abort His vision,”
A mother pleads.

“It’s my choice,”

A girl whispers

In a darkened room

In a modern curse

And her Devil lay

His qualms to bear

As her Angel prays

For a Christian tear

And the choirs sing

“‘Round yon Virgin”

As the women bleed

To their own versions

At the final push

A newborn cries

For an abandoned baby

Who breathes to die.