A mother's choice

My mommy used to sing to me everyday,

I would smile and laugh away,

in my mother's womb,

I felt protected,

I felt loved.

I knew that God was looking down at me from above.

I could hardly wait,

to enter a world,

filled of promises,hope and adventure.

 

 

My Daddy,

I didn't hear him much,

he used to work right through,

all I remember was the fights every night,

the way my mother cried herself to sleep,

wrapped up in her sheets,

to conceal herself,

from this man she thought she loved.

 

 

Curses spewing from his mouth,

the day he found out,

"Abort it" he spat,

My mom protested,

which led to another attack,

I fell to the floor with her,

listening to the anguished sobs,

racketing her body.

 

 

I don't blame her the day,

I felt the piercing metal,

scraping away my flesh,

riveted in pain,

taking away my eventual life.

My mother was poor and weak,

she thought if I died,

it would save her marriage.

Yet, little did she know,

the monster who was my father,

continued the torture,

the pain,

all so he could be amused and feel self worth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

a fictional piece used to provoke thought on an abused woman's dilemma.

Reviews

[Aarea]

How sad and disturbing. Abortion and abuse seen through the eyes of the child within. I liked how the child didn't blame her mother, that it understood her. The poor woman. I hope she escaped him someday. This was very nice writing, and very impressive.

[Pryde Foltz]

A tough topic you have chosen to write about. Certainly it affected me emotionally.

[Leeci]

thanks so much for reviewing Pryde :)

[Lydia Shutter]

This poem packs a wallop of an emotional punch! The words from the perspective of the fetus are anguished. The description of the abuse the mother went through...both emotional and physical.....is powerful. Unfortunately, the father was not going to change. It's a shame the mother did not realize it before aborting her child. Exceptional poetry....so unique. Lydi**

[Leeci]

thank you for ur kind words :) yes in giving the unborn child a voice, it makes the piece stand out and also makes people ponder on their choices and its consequences.

[Nativespirit]

Life, at any time during the process of creation , or the time of living, is a gift not to be returned. Your poem is so profound, one cannot tell the reader from the tortured. Both must experience the pain and loss. I must go and read more of what you have created.

[Leeci]

thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts :)

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Heartbreaking scenario that has been prevalent in our society these days. I love how you ended the poem with regrets for the decision made. Thanks for sharing, :)

[Leeci]

thanks for reviewing Blue :) appreciate it a lot.

[Sami Khalil]

A splendid read and write...Thank you for sharing...:)...............

[Leeci]

thanks so much for reviewing :)

[Sami Khalil]

My pleasure...:)...........

[Angel]

Yes, this is one reason why abortion happens. And it is so very sad...because, as you tell us, the torture does not stop. This poor, weak, frightened child murdered her baby to save a marriage that was already trash.
And she will live with that guilt forever...

[Leeci]

hi Angel, thanks so much for your review. Yes she did, she made a poor choice and was left to deal with the violence by the man she thought truly loved her. It happens so many times out there, thought I'd pen a piece for all the weak and totured women who have been abused by someone they really trusted and loved. It's a sad piece too, had she kept her child she would have had a better future, well from my point of view.

[Angel]

Yes, and from my point of view as well...
I spent twelve years as a volunteer in an abortion alternative center. One of the things I did was to counsel with women who had had abortions. The guilt is horrible. They have terrible nightmares about their dead babies, they hear them crying, sometimes their breasts fill with milk anyway...it is really terribly sad. I've even heard of a couple of girls who committed suicide because of it.
I can't imagine why "abortion on demand" is still legal.
Yes, I can...
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

[Leeci]

wow I could only imagine what you saw on a daily basis, in my eyes it's wrong as well but you know girls are still doing it for many different reasons and ignore the side effects and consequences. sad....

[Angel]

Well, we also helped to save a few babies from the abortion slaughter houses, so that's a good thing. I was working as a legal assistant at the time...my main role was as liason between the center and the office...mothers who gave their babies up for adoption, and couples who wanted to adopt a baby. I've also helped girls who decided not to abort to keep their babies...we had access to community resources that could help these gals find an apartment, or sometimes there would be people who would volunteer to share their homes with them...I did that a few times, myself. People donated maternity clothes and baby things, so we could help with that...
I think we helped save quite a few lives in the time I was there.
But I will never forget those women...they will be haunted by the horror of what they went through for the rest of their lives...

[Leeci]

interesting to have experinced these things and so sorry for what those women gone through, those who decided to give up their babies for adoption as well as those who chose abortion. kudos to the ones, who decided to keep their babies and face the challenges and for being brave.

[Leeci]

corrections: *went

[Angel]

Giving a baby up for adoption is a hard choice to make...and a very brave one. Lots of our girls did this because they wanted the best for the baby they carried...they wanted that child to have a normal, loving home, with the opportunities that she could not give him/her. When you think about it, giving them up for adoption was really an act of love.

[Leeci]

yea I think so too :) even thought it might be emotional it's a brave choice one in which their child will thank them in the years to come.