Are you for eighty-sixing
This child within the womb,
And giving it instead of life
A cold and lonely tomb?
It’s not a messy surgery.
It’s private and it’s clean.
It’s certainly more natural.
See don’t you, what I mean?
Sold as healthcare medicine?
Not so the way I reckon!
To me it still is nothing more
Than just a murder weapon.
The tiny movements of a child
That quicken from within
Slowly starved of nourishment
The dying now begins.
There is no way to justify
The taking of this life.
The arguments that call it choice
Bring nothing more than strife.
The secret story of the pain
And guilt that choice inflicts,
Abortion is sure one idea
For you to eighty-six.
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