When does life begin?

Innocent, inarticulate infant
Utter umbilical misunderstanding
Intrauterine cranial compression
Oh my little head
Red, white, blue and dead
Where were my protectors proud and gallant
Obviously not meant to be . . . no blessing
Conceived in folly, that is my impression
Please hear my voice
Death wasn’t my choice
Intricately woven inside mother’s womb
Knitted together beautiful and pristine
I yearned to see life, cuddling at breasts
Now I am in pain
She has made it plain
That her body’s not for life . . . it’s a tomb
What was my crime I wonder . . . calm and serene?
Do those living cherish life . . . heck with the rest?
Unborn
. . . dead instead
Why’d they crush my head?
Babies return to where they’re loved, heaven
Angels we become aware, articulate
Look inside yourselves . . . to what you do allow
Oh my little head
Red, white, blue and dead
Why mourn losing baby number seven;
When there’s six abortions noted on your slate?
Do you put your morals aside for a while?
Your lives we’ll enhance . . .
Give babies a chance!