A lament of the infamous decisions of the Supreme Court of the United States to devalue the life of the unborn.
Where sleep our children in these troubled days
when their laughter we long to hear?
Where are those flashing, excited eyes
and their tiny contented sighs?
Where are those moments when we're first aware,
somehow through the peek a boos,
And the rhythm and rhyme of our giggling time,
that our love is returned in kind.
Where are the memories of growing up,
those times of joy and pain,
All cherished alike, because they're shared,
all counted by love as gain.
Where are our children? Oh no! Oh God!
They're victims of our own moral sleep.
For our children lie in the grave of convenience
unmourned in the graveyard of greed.
And still we sleep while our children die,
the victims of darkened minds
That speak in a way that - it seems OK,
So on we sleep as they cry.
Where sleep our children in these troubled days
Our children lie in the grave of convenience,
unmourned in the graveyard of greed,
Because we have not awakened ourselves,
To protect them as true Love decrees.
P. Davis
