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For Every Baby Born

By Wil C. Fry, 2017.03.21, 22:07

(Copyright 2017 by Wil C. Fry. All rights reserved.)


I rage
I mourn
I weep for every baby born
Their landfill-bound plastic lives
Their coal-clouded carbon-filled skies

We held snowballs
And we told lies
We passed laws to hasten their demise
We traded their lunches for war machines
And funded corporate tax cuts instead of vaccines

We make America “great”
By dumping waste into lakes
And hope to make it harder for gays buying cakes
I wonder if we even know what’s at stake
And what kind of sound will a failing nation make?

Someday they’ll grow
To spend and toil
Paid just enough to afford to buy oil
And eat what’s grown in polluted soil
Never sharing in the cash-hoarding spoils

They will age
They will die
Even earlier than will you and I
While the population continues to multiply
The weak-hearted need not apply

I rage
I cry
For the old and sick not allowed to die
We force them to suffer under watchful eyes
Claiming vague commands from beyond the skies





The first three lines popped into my head as I was lying down to sleep on 2017.03.14, so I quickly wrote them, followed by two more. The next evening, I added three more lines. The following day, I added two more. Then I let it sit for a few days before continuing. Still, only a line or two would come each day.

(This pattern is unusual for me. Typically, I write a poem in one sitting, and either leave it as-is or polish it later. Other times, I’ll write a first half and then add the rest later.)

Some sources for the claims:




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