You claim that my choice breaks your heart,
as if mine isn’t shattered and cracked.
You think I don’t know how beautiful he’d be,
or wonder how he’d walk, talk and act.
You think that I’m evil and going to hell,
but my beliefs do not equal yours.
You yell in my face and protest my right,
— starting fights, starting chaos, and wars.
You claim that you know my story,
that I chose death and that I’m out of line.
Little do you see, that I did choose life;
but the life that I chose, was mine.
Author’s note: This is a poem from the perspective of a woman who had an abortion, inspired by a passion for the right of a patient to choose freely.