In pain and anguish, I cry out,
Although my scream is never heard,
Except by those who feel my agony,
For I shall never speak a word.
The pain I feel is overwhelming;
It is more than I can bear.
I am not loved, nor am I wanted
By those who should, but do not care.
Not only feel I fleshly pain,
But, also, in my infant spirit,
Thus, I cry from deep rejection,
But, still they will not hear it.
My flesh, though perfect in it's form,
Is being cut and ripped and torn;
If they would only hear my cry
And would allow my being born.
But, to them I am a fetus, not a child
To them I have no right to claim as mine.
They stop their ears so they cannot hear,
Though my petition comes from one divine.
How can they kill the innocent, the yet unborn
When even those who murder are set free?
It seems that justice has been changed,
For they have spurned and altered God's decree.
Will it always be that I must suffer, thus?
Will they, with conscience seared, not even try
To understand my plight, unstop their ears---
Or, must I, still in silence, ever die?
By L. B. Strawn
May 22, 1991