Don't Build It, and They Won't Come
by Jamie S.

A desolate building, an abandoned old lot,
with a third-world appearance. Far a way? Sadly not.
Denver's neighborhood north, fifty churches nearby,
the doctors are coming with the same tired, old lie.

They're building a bunker, a new killing base,
to propagate violence, case after case,
disseminate ignorant "facts" about sex,
and plenty of condoms and who knows what's next?

So, keep the doors shut, and slow the construction,
and tell all the neighborhood, make a commotion,
say killing a helpless young child is pure evil
and shout out the question from high on a steeple.

Who'll stand in the gap? Who'll stand against hate,
when there's no end in sight, and they will not abate.
As the enemy comes with fresh troops and blades,
as dark and perverted as gay pride parades.

If they can't even build it, then no one will come,
though the other near death camps will still murder some.
And their slick politician friends send them more dough,
just as Susan G. Komen can never say no.

So, stop the foundation, and chain the doors closed,
and stand in the roadway till everyone knows
that killing a helpless young child is a crime
and abortion is wrong any place, any time.

At a desolate building, an abandoned old lot,
with a third-world appearance. Far a way? Sadly not.
As mothers bake cookies and kids play nearby,
unaware of impending infanticide's cry.