Poetry / no call for a casket

1,2,3,4,5
ship those kids out before they’re alive
one and a half, 2 and a half, three, four five six
throw ‘em in the trash for the white coat’s kicks

i’ve seen the loaded doctor
walkin to his fancy practice
breakin’ the hypocratic oath thing
with brutal fucking tactics
suckin’ out the little kids
to feel is greedy pockets
he says its her choice
but its really all his

1,2,3,4,5
yank those kids out before they arrive
remember its a choice, not a child you piece of shit
now they’re medical waste
thrown head first in the side bin

kids have no choice to live a life and be prosperous
because the tax income’s way too high
to outlaw his practice
so you ride to the clinic
and drop the thing in the basket
who cares he’s got a heartbeat?
don’t think that calls for a casket

You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.