ༀ MY PROSE POEM ON ABORTION RIGHTS

Dear Mr. Bush,

I write to you because you leave me no choice. First of all, who chose you, Mr. Bush? You knew I wouldn’t, so you stole your way to the presidency and called it ‘fair elections’. You knew only too well that I would not choose war, so you bombed their cities into deserts, and called it ‘Iraqi Freedom’. You want to grant human rights to the unborn, but why bother when you won’t honor these rights after I leave the womb — especially when you decide that I'm a ‘terrorist’? What about when the unborn grow up to die for you on the battlefield, will you choose to be at their funerals, as you’ve yet to do for even one of today’s 500+ fallen American soldiers? If you don’t respect the living or the dead, why, then, Mr. Bush, why do you respect me, the fetus? Yours is a strange kind of compassion. Even if I did ask to be born, does this mean that you can force someone to give birth to me? You — who have overseen more executions than any other governor in American history — can call yourself ‘pro-life’? Are you that eager to bring onto the world as many children as it is possible to deprive of healthcare and education, only to later put them on the electric chair, or torture at Guantanamo Bay, or starve in Afghanistan? Are you that eager to spawn as many children as you can leave behind without choice, without life?


Sincerely,



Unborn Child