My tiny hands
Round and round
Reaching in the dark
My mouth
Barely formed
A rosebud with a part
My eyes aren't open
I'm still brand new
And unborn miracle
With so much living to do
How could you not love me
Want to hold me
And want to hug me
I'm your baby, after all
I'm pieces of you
Locked in a glistening womb
Soon I will get so large
There will barely be any room
You say you don't want me
This little person that you helped make
You say you want to do away with me
And steal the breath I will never take
I'm begging you
If you can't love me
Your baby
Your creation
Your child
Keep me for a little while
And please let me grow
There are so many women
Who would love to love me
You just don't know
I have always, always, been certain that the unborn are among our greatest human resources. My love for every underdeveloped human being has spanned many a decade.
No matter how you feel about their value, denying that they are tiny humans is among the many travesties that plague the human condition. I struggle with the way people think sometimes.