Cry of the Unborn

God gave me a precious gift;
The gift of life and breath.
My mother took my precious gift,
And gave to me my death.

My mother said she had a choice,
But when will people hear my voice?
Listen! Hear my feeble cry!
How many more will have to die?

I was created, but never born.
My body limb from limb was torn.
How can America claim to be free,
When children are murdered...children like me?