Baby

Some say the unborn
are yet to be people,

but they lie.

Every abortionist worth
their salt knows:

the unborn emerge smiling.

The unborn smiles
not knowing
the threads of desire
that we dangle upon.

With two little fists
the unborn cheats
death.

It has nothing to offer.
Pupils are not apparent
and
out of the button-hole
mouth
silence
grows
like a noxious weed.

Later it burns with
the cancerous flesh,
needles
and tainted scalpel
blades.

The unborn
still smiling
approaches death
with empty hands.
"Death" it says
"stand aside and
let me in...

I give you nothing."