The Unborn Children

My hands touched his tiny fingers ever so fair.
My eyes beheld God’s creation with care.
He was only five months in my pregnancy you see.
An infection robbed my precious baby from me.

I wanted so to kiss him goodbye
But the nurses took him from me with a heartfelt sigh.
They said they send the fetus to find out why it died.
It wasn’t a fetus to me and for my precious baby I cried.

I have no grave to visit and spend some time.
They never returned my jewel divine.
I can’t place flowers upon his grave.
A fetus is not a baby and is not therefore saved.

What did they do with my precious little one?
God planted this seed to become my darling little son.
I live with the hope I will see him again.
My faith in Jesus is built solid and strong, not on shifting sand.

Though I miss him today and I remember his pale little face.
I know I shall see him again because of God’s amazing grace.
I just wish doctors and politicians could see.
It wasn’t a fetus, but a baby to me.

It seems professionals are becoming distant to all human emotions.
They graduate with honors but treat patients as consumers detached from all care and devotion.
What is the price of one tiny little stillborn baby boy?
Why do they call them a fetus and instead wash their hands of God’s little blessings of joy?

In the distance I hear heavens vast rumbling sounds.
I see the dark skies and I hear the thunder rolling pounds.
One day soon God is going to say ,”Enough is Enough!”
The penalty for ignoring human life I fear will be mighty tough!

Written by Sybil Shearin
All Rights Reserved
(c) 5-2003
Waiting for The Son!

This entry was posted on 270544H Jan 2011 and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.

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