My mom chose life. Twice.

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    My mom gave birth to me and my brother. She could have let us die. Two lives given by one, rather than slaughter unborns. Heavy topic in today's society, but I choose life every time.

    My mom chose life. Twice.

     What if all the real people died?

    Absorb the thoughts

    Get under the flesh

    Crush the bones

    Brittle baby bones

    Not even considered in existence

    Parts of anatomy

    The lies we're told

    They killed

    Slaughtered

    How do I say this?

    It is difficult to go

    To let the death carry on

    One can't change the world

    But they can change themselves

    One step

    At a time

    Influence

    The key

    Life and death

    Life and death

    Life and death

    I choose life

    Always

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    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

    chemicalcuke’s Poems (44)

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