Most animals in wild are driven by
Twin pangs of hunger and of sexual urge;
God feeds them all, no matter where they lie,
And cures them in sickness, and when they purge!
When Estrus season comes on, they all mate;
The pregnant females deliver on own;
And Mother Nature decides new-born’s fate
On harsh terrain, not grass-lawns, freshly mown!
Nevertheless, they murder not unborn,
But lick them clean and nurse them until big;
Their mothers caress them from dusk through dawn;
To cover shame, they wear no leaves of fig!
How well wild beasts obey their Maker’s code!
But human beings, abortions afford.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-15-2008
Very well penned... a huge contraversial issue laid bare in a few simple verses. Well done.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
an excellent write..a strong message..