Tonight I offer you a poem about hopes and dreams…
by Debra Hurst
Gently floating away to sleep
Safely slumbering, resting with peace
The most innocent of dreams
Sweetly developing in my mind.
While in my slumbering rest
I can swim as much as I like
I know not fear
I’m safe, protected, at peace.
I often hear voices
Sweet sounds of music
Some really loud
There are people waiting for me
Waiting for my birth.
I have all my fingers and toes
I’m ready to play.
Something is thumping at my foot
Something cold has my legs
They are being pulled from behind
Is it time to be born?
Wow I feel a different world
No water, no more floating
I think I’m almost out
I’m on my way.
Oh, that hurt, not right
Something hurt at the back of my head
Something sharp pushed through my brain.
…hopes and dreams destroyed by every “partial-birth” and “late-term” abortion.
[Thanks, Deb, for letting me reproduce your poem here.]
We live in world where unborn victims of Canadian infanticide have been shipped to Oregon for the electricity that their roasted little bodies can provide. We live in a world where Kermit Gosnell ran a human slaughterhouse under the name of “family planning”, with horrors too numerous and gruesome to repeat here. Want more? Look at these images of aborted babies, if you dare. How much more twisted and evil can the whole abortion situation get? How many more innocents will be sacrificed to the idol of selfishness (encompassing convenience, lust and promiscuity)?
If there’s any consolation in the genocide of tens of millions of unborn infants that was unleashed by Roe v. Wade, and perpetuated yearly by hundreds of thousands of individual males and females who refuse to exercise personal responsibility through sexual self-control, it’s that those innocent souls will go straight into the eternal grace of our Lord, who someday shall judge their killers.
Nonetheless, here on Earth, those of us who care enough will mourn the dead we never could know. How many great scientists, artists, ministers, authors, astronauts, sports stars, doctors, executives, and yes, community organizers and activists, have never seen the light of day because they were aborted? Could one of them have found the cure for cancers, AIDS, MS, MD, ALS, herpes, bipolar disorder, Alzheimers disease, schizophrenia, or the common cold? Who among them may have solved the riddles of autism or led the way to sight for the blind? The agent or detective who would have thwarted a deadly act of terrorism? The future President who would have found a way to get a true peace treaty forged across the Middle East?
What amazing things may have been discovered by those souls who never had bodies outside the womb, or by one of their own children or grandchildren who never can exist? Could one of those babies aborted in the ’70s, ’80s or ’90s have been the right friend to help you with your worst troubles today, or the right spouse for the lonely, the right counselor for the broken, or the Good Samaritan who could have saved a loved one killed in a crash? What amazing accomplishments and everyday relationships never can happen because the difference-maker was aborted?
My God, what have we lost?