Silent Cry

Behind closed sterile doors,
Lies a hidden tale.
Buried stories untold,
Where the truth fails.

Wrapped with a piece of cloth,
Dwells a child too small.
Depicting a tiny toy,
Perhaps a small fictile doll.

But notice carefully underneath,
The cloth that enfolded his head.
Are his limbs scattered about,
Notice carefully, the child is dead.

Delicate flesh bathed in crimson blood,
His broken up body looks almost unreal.
Cant you see the innocence destroyed?
The pain and despair cant you feel?

Gently the cloth is dropped into a bin,
Where rests those of the same fate.
Their basic rights all taken away,
Leaving in the bin just their weight.

The right to live,
The right to breathe.
The right to grow,
Yet their innocence you throw.

For a night a pleasure,
Taking its worst turn.
Abortion comes easy
Your own flesh you'd burn.

But isn't that murder?
Against the law to kill?
Aren't you guilty,
To silence that innocent shrill.

How can it even be a thought?
And only because they are not born yet.
It is alright to kill an unborn child?
Humanity did u forget?

But today behind sterile doors,
Hidden tales still lie.
Doesn't anyone hear,
The unborn's silent cry.