A Pro-Life Poem

 

Monsignor, I’m pro-choice.
Monsignor, I’m for condoms.

And you think I enjoy killing babies.
I even cry when I kill a chicken.

And you think I enjoy making love
        thru condoms.
But we enjoy making love for beauty.

Some make love for vengeance or
        conquest.
Spreading ugly seed without a
        conscience.

Ugly seeds may turn out to be
        lovely.
Babies, angels then, this is all
        quirky.

Natural birth-control is most de-
        sirable,
no going-to-the-bathroom ritual.

Abortion pills, is the fetus now
        being?
To kill a baby’s not like with a
        chicken.

Why an abortion then? The reasons
determine the beauty of our
        science:

consciences don’t determine cor-
        rectness,
but rightness don’t guarantee
        innocence.

The final say’s not to copulate
        for fun;
or have fun with virtuous precau-
        tions.

Is there virtue in a condom? Fa-
        ther,
is there virtue in natural birth
        control?

The final say’s not to copulate for
        fun;
but copulation’s fun, life’s full
        of fun.

The final say’s have fun with
        virtuous
precautions, have fun with a
        conscience.

And sigh when you kill a chicken,
and you cannot just fake it!

Monsignor, I’m pro-life.
Monsignor, I’m for IUDs.

But when it comes to saving moth-
        er
or baby, I’m pro-choice.

When it comes to rape victims,
I’m pro-abortion pills

if only to make it rhyme.
And less 1-month fetus, just wine.

Does one begin to exist as sperm
and egg, separate systems?
Is birth control murder?

Is abortion legal in heaven if
        early?
And you think I’d enjoy killing babies.
Early abortion’s not yet one?

Granting all abortions are "abortions."
Let’s continue examining all our rea-
        sons—

Maybe the culprit’s free enterprise.
And babies are investments or other-
        wise.

Maybe the culprit’s the regard for
        women
as machines for men, or maybe

we are none of God’s business.
As anyway we’re all selfish.

But I only care for women.
That’s why I wrote this poem.

 

 

 

Copyright © 1999, 2004 Vicente-Ignacio Soria de Veyra. All rights reserved. Readers are welcome to view, save, file and print out single copies of this webpage for their personal use. No reproduction, display, performance, multiple copy, transmission, or distribution of the work herein, or any excerpt, adaptation, abridgment or translation of same, may be made without written permission from the author. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this work will be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

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