A Poem About Abortion
Look into this bowl of blood
And you'll see
What you're meant to see
More than twenty
I mean
Plenty
Pieces of embryos
Floating in the bowl
More than twenty
Innocent white fertilities
Haphazardly
Floating like properties
Dragged and jetisoned
Into the sea
from a sinking ship
Bardie
Be still
You're more than twenty
Years old so
Gird up your loin and tears;
And kindly stand up and go.
The job is done.
.
.
.
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