Hope For Destiny's Mother
by P. Melissa Fisher

I wonder if she tried,
A frightened girl feeling she had no choice,
To do the merciful thing—
The right thing.
But there you were
With your slogans
And your dead-baby picket signs in her face
Calling her a whore
And telling her that she was going to Hell for
Killing her baby
Or did she run into just one of you?
Perhaps a sweet old lady who
Gently explained that there was another choice
And asked her how
She could even consider such a thing after
Hearing the baby’s heartbeat.
Did you promise that the church always
Be there to help her though her
Baby’s life?
Did she cry on your shoulder
And bless you for saving her soul
And her baby?

Fast-forward six months.
Where were you when she gave
Birth alone?
Was there no more room at your inn?
Did you even offer a manger to this girl
Who would have euthanized her child
Months before—if not for your
Protests and lip-service.
So away in a dumpster
No crib for her bed
Little Destiny Hope
Lay down her sweet head
And cried herself
To death