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blood stained hand THIS UNWITTING HOLOCAUST- a poem, by E.S.V.

(40th Anniversary of Roe v. Wade) (1/23/13)

I stare at the piercing eyes of 50 plus million
standing under the altar
crying out, "How long, O Lord?"

Those who never had a voice on earth
are crying out in heaven.

We have decimated a whole generation of souls
because we loved convenience,
because we were frightened of what others might think of us,
because our backs were up against the wall.

We are all guilty, somehow, of this crime.

I myself remember my freshman college year,
and the burden of waiting months for a menstruation
that wouldn't come, wondering
whether I too would ask my girlfriend to pull the plug.

Months later, the blood flow finally came,
absolving me of my murderous intent,

but it could have been us, too,
another young couple faced
with the shame of unplanned parenthood
and the call of expediency.

We have snuffed out 50 plus million lives
in the defense of liberty.
Even Hitler, Stalin, Mao couldn't get that far.

And when you consider the entire world,
its gendercide and forced family planning,
their blood screams louder from the ground

than all the machinery whirring in a world of industry,
than all the loudest music in our headphones and car speakers.

Thank God that there is a blood
that speaks better than the blood of Abel.

How we need this blood to cauterize
our bloodstained hands and minds--
a true antiseptic in an antiseptic culture of death.


Pieter Bruegel the Elder. The Massacre of the Innocents. 1565-67. Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna, Austria
Massacre of The Innocents by Pieter Bruegel the Elder

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