Abortion poems-(PLEASE NOTE-Some people, especially those who’ve had an abortion, may find this poem disturbing.This poem is not intended to condemn but to highlight the horrors of abortion and in emotional terms the abortion cost.)
Abortion poems can touch the heart and soul and there follows a beautiful and thought provoking abortion poem called “My Little One” (by Michael Healy).
As you read the following abortion poems please join us in global prayer that ALL who are involved in the modern day ‘slaughter of the innocents’ may be given enlightenment, understanding and above all, openness to the Holy Spirit.
May they turn back to their loving Father in Heaven who loves them and wishes to say to them,
“Bring out the best robe, and clothe him in it; put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet” (Lk 15 v22) and may they ‘see’ the truth of their actions and return in conversion to the God who loves them and wishes to forgive them.
We pray at the siege of jericho that Herod’s modern day massacre cease in our own lifetimes.
(Please note-some people, especially women who’ve had an abortion, may find this poem disturbing. This poem is not intended to condemn but to highlight the horrors of abortion and in emotional terms, the cost of abortions worldwide to the human race). For a healing poem on forgiveness please see the abortion poem below “Mummy is Sorry”
MY LITTLE ONE
Today I think of you while I am weeping
And slowly count the lost and empty years;
If you had lived, it would have been your birthday,
Though every day, in truth, is filled with tears.
I try, of course, to think of other matters,
To dust and clean and wash away the pain
And yet the more I try to push you from me,
The deeper in my heart do you remain.
What colour were your eyes, your hair I wonder
Your little ears – what shape would they have been?
I want you, seek you, yearn so much to hold you
But in my searching mind you stay unseen.
If I had known upon that day the future,
If I had felt the torment I would bear,
If I had not then let them take you from me,
I would not now be slave to this despair.
Within that room of death and dark and coldness
The devil surely did exultant dwell,
For was it not indeed the very annex
Adjacent to the icy halls of hell.
And is it my imagining, I wonder,
When first you felt that sharp, satanic knife,
You cried to me in fear, “What’s happening, Mama?
I beg you, help me … help me … save my life”.
It is a world become malign and shadowed
Where forces cruel, depraved, demonic reign,
Where those who are most innocent and helpless
Are cast away like winnowed husks of grain.
They talk of “women’s choice” and “women’s freedom”
And claim the right to life is theirs alone;
They blind their eyes to those who still lie hidden
Within the womb that they, themselves, have known.
All joy, all hope, all human warmth must perish
When pity, love and trust are thus betrayed,
When frozen hearts and callous hands accomplish
A work that dares destroy what God has made.
And it is He, the Lord of Life, who formed you
And cherishes you now, my little one,
Who will, upon that day when all shall tremble,
Ask why it was this piteous deed was done.