poem posted originally on "the rough woodsman blog"about abortion

I am alive
Can you not see?
Hidden behind the veil of tissue and warmth
Waiting for my precious chance
at life promised to me by hands that vow to save life
and arms that should long to hold me,
and leaders who are supposed to protect me.

I am alive.
I have a voice and a soul
and a right to life, liberty, and happiness.
A right to smear my tears on a soft shoulder,
and touch sticky, sugary fingers on window panes.
A right to speak my mind, protest a war, or pledge
allegiance to God and country.
A right to pursue my dreams and fail the tests of life
or taste its victories. A right to love and lose or
hold my own someday and nourish life...passing it on
to the next generation.