O Little One,
Too young to see the light of day,
But not to young to die today.

Where is the mother love;
Where the Father defender;
Where the law and lawmakers?
Are they but pretenders,
Turning blind eyes,
Deaf to your cries.

They have a choice
And have chosen,
Not the blessing,
But the curse
They must live with all their days,
Until they can hear your heart,
Crying out from
Your too soon grave,
And weep and honor you with a name,
And recognize your claim,
Upon their darkened souls.

May they soon ask your prayers,
That their names
Be written anew
In the Book of Life.

O Little One
I see you,
Love you,
Honor you.
I wait with you
Through the strife,
Hoping all those living with dead souls,
May awaken
To choose life,
Your precious God-given life.

Copyright 2013  Joann Nelander

All rights reserved