John F. McCullagh (09/28/1954 / Flushing)
The Lost Generation
For those who view abortion different;
As the murder of an unborn innocent,
There’s a Newtown massacre every day
with nameless victims for whom they pray.
Not wishing to gainsay the law
of privacy or woman’s right to choose.
Praying more for a change of heart,
for children not to be refused.
For there are songs that might have been
That never will be sung.
Blank Canvases, devoid of paint,
That never will be done.
In truth, a generation lost,
As one was lost before;
The first upon the fields of France,
the next on Clinic floors.
No firearms employed this time
but the carnage is the same;
Helpless bodies torn apart
Their blood poured down the drain.
I’ve seen the people up in arms
When Madmen use their right to choose,
But abortionists grow fat and rich
Please understand why I’m confused.
Poet Other Poems
- Sacred Flame (A tale of the Neanderthal...
- "To the People of Texas & All Ameri...
- (It Was) A Very Good Year.
- 50 Years on
- A Brewed Awakening
- A Certain Star
- A Child of Then
- A Cry in the Night
- A Cup of Tea
- A Dark Day without Rain
- A knife in the Heart
- A Life in the Theater
- A Light before Dying (Dark humor)
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.