A Word From The Foetus Poem by Richard Merrell

'I'm warm and feeling safe
as I move around my room
everything is soft and gentle
inside my mother's womb.
I can tell that I am growing
as the time goes by, at pace
I've got little hands and feet
a tiny nose upon my face.
My heart I can hear beating
as the blood pumps through my veins,
I am aware of many things
and, I'm thinking with my brains.
I know the day is coming
when I will laugh and play;
and have a lot of fun
with my friends on my birthday.
What a time I'll have
as I grow up to be
that special kind of person
to that someone who'll love me.

'Oh, I'm feeling pain
is there nowhere I can hide?
my little hands have been cut off
by the scalpel that's in my side!
my legs are being torn apart
I'm screaming in my blood,
no one seems to hear me
as I drown in the flood.
Help me, oh please help me
they're cutting off my head;
I'll never have a birthday
because my now, I'm dead! '

'There is a gentle voice I hear
that says, 'I love you so'
and arms that hold me really close
a great peace overflows.
I'm not afraid, I've lots of friends
I have a 'brand new' home,
a place of love, joy and peace
I play before God's throne.'

Then a mighty voice does cry,
'Rest child at my Mount
'til my Day of Inquisition;
when someone will give account! ! '