This week Eagle Rising is displaying the pro-life, anti-abortion poetry of one of our readers – Mr. L.B. Strawn.
Without a thing called mother’s love
This poor child never should have been.
Mom almost died when pregnant with my sister,
So she was told to never have a child again.
My sister was the sixth child out of seven;
Mom was ill and almost lost her mind.
She had lost her first a husband and two children;
To this child, unborn, she could never be unkind.
And her seventh child delivered from her womb.
Her love was stronger than to allow abortion,
And send a child of innocence to an early tomb.
She was a woman who was poor and unlearned,
Yet one who had compassion in her heart.
This child of innocence within her womb
Had no blame for it’s unplanned start.
This birth occurred so many years ago;
In August those years will be seventy one.
I’m happy for the love that she has shown–
She was not ashamed to say I was her son.
I loved and gave the best I had to my mother
Though some things in my teens brought her pain,
I over came those problems ere they grew,
And she was glad she suffered through the strain.
I cannot help but wonder at the blood shed
Allowed to happen as a woman’s right.
If there’s a God in heaven, and, I know there is,
He can’t be pleased with such an awful sight.
He tells us of the pain and suffering of those
Who go to a place that He calls HELL
Murders are one group, of whom we’re told
That God will sound the somber death knell.
By L. B. Strawn
July 21, 1996
The views expressed in this opinion article are solely those of their author and are not necessarily either shared or endorsed by EagleRising.com