Check yours

Weep bitter heavy tears,

sprung from aching empty hearts.

Hands clenched in silence,

open up in rage.

Yes,

yes,

A life is lost,

But what life?

Which life?

Whose?

Choosing sides,

pointing fingers,

placing blame,

forgetting,

The value of each life,

each heart,

each tear,

The one is not worth more,

than the other.

It is not our place to judge,

our place is to love,

to comfort,

to affirm significance.

Leave medical choices,

to medical professionals,

not politicians,

not pastors,

not judges.

Let the women weep,

listen to their fury,

lest we cover our ears,

close our eyes,

miss their suffering.

Make no mistake,

you drew the line.

I am prepared to answer for,

the blood on my hands,

You best check yours.