February 21, 2022, michaelbray Lamentations, Poetry,

The Blood of the Babies on Your Hands

1 Sam. 1:15f.

You got the blood of babies on your hands
Spreading all over the lands.
So when you lift them up in prayer,
I must say, “How do you dare?”
Those hands are lookin’ real red
And all those babies are dead.
Have you made yourself clean?
With those murderers been mean?
“Cease to do evil and learn to do good.”
Fix up your very own neighborhood.
You got people flushing babies down the drain
Inflicting on themselves soulful pain;
A foul nation’s sin comes upon us .
Better have a baby fetiparous,
On the street or in the tub with pain.
Getting blessings can be a strain!

0930 on 21 Feb., 2022

So What Would You Been Doin’? Come, Let Us Reason Together