Poetry

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Why do some complain so much, when they've so much to gain;
and others weep so bitterly? I think they're all insane.

I would have smelled the roses, ignored those thorny stems;
and gladly traded places, with anyone of them.

I wasn't ever wanted, by mother or by dad;
and not to even have a right to live - was really sad.

Birth certificate? Oh no - for I got all the blame;
and I was too unwanted - to even get a name.

Tossed into a trash can - was found among the muck;
survived that botched abortion. Some would call that "luck".

Yes, an angel found me, soothed my many fears;
wrapped me in a towel, washed me with her tears.

Rocking very patiently, she knew what was in store;
but hugged me tightly in her arms, for she could do no more.

Many rights protect us, from beatings and abuse;
but "life" just doesn't matter now, if one decides to choose.

I had no right to ask for help - even if I could.
She had to let me fade away - for no one understood.

Rights are very twisted things, Some get them. I did not;
so go about your duties now, for I am best forgot.

Why do some complain so much? Let's make this very plain.
It all comes down to money - when wisdom's down the drain.

Now I'm held in Jesus' arms, within His warm embrace;
"Lord please, for this kind angel, reserve a special place...."

"a special place right next to me, to cry and hug again.
where we can share eternity, together - please. Amen."

©2008 louis gander (11-13-08) ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
ganderpoems.org

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