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Monday, November 19, 2007


The blind desire for the baby boy,
Brings them to the sound machine,
Blinking dot on the screen,
Is the heart, which can’t even scream.

The pious Hippocratic oath,
To protect the human life,
Is defeated,
When the protector stands affront,
The mother to be, of the female baby to be.

As the instruments make the tinkling sound,
He wears the gloves for assault,
The baby asleep in the womb,
The womb,
Which will become the tomb, from now.

The blood effusing out from the vault,
Smears the surgeon’s hand,
Testifies the murderous attack,
On the baby, still to be born.

Saith the (in) human desire,
Kill the baby for the son,
Do they heal the humanity,
Or do they commit the feticide for money.

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