In honor of the unborn child, I put together the following:
Abortion
In
the beginning, you knew me Lord;
How
I was yet unborn, even though you knew I would not live to face the morn.
You,
oh Lord, designed me special as your very own vessel;
Every
eyelash, every finger, every toe, every vein in which my blood would flow.
You
designed me in every way, though
you knew I would not live to face the day.
I
never lived to play, or to fulfill your holy plan, for my life was taken through wickedness of
man.
In
silence, I screamed in my plight; was
bloodied in my innocent fight.
From
my own momma's womb, I was defenseless against my doom within the walls of an abortion room.
I
struggled and sought to cry, wondering, "Why?"
My
own mother's womb would mark my doom.
Where
I had felt warm and protected, pain seared through my tiny person, and my condition began to worsen.
I
was ripped from the womb, limb by tiny fragile limb;
Never
to see the light as all went dim;
Never
to breathe or teethe;
Never
to cry or blink an eye;
Never
to play or pray;
Never
to be loved, to love, or stare at the stars above;
Never
to fail, succeed, or live for a story to tell.
Through
wickedness of man, I never will or never can.
My
life was taken before it began.
But
you, oh Lord, knew me before I was born; and I will awaken to you in the morn.
Mary Crisp Jameson
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