Is it a Blob or is He Bob?

In abortion, just what is the issue? Is it a person, or is he tissue? Is it a blob? Or is his name Bob? Is it a mere choice? “I prefer her looks?” Or, “I prefer his voice?” Or, “Well, I just prefer this kind of song?” Or, are we saying, “Abortion is right, or abortion is wrong!” If it’s not a matter of wrong or right, Then there is simply no reason to fight. You prefer Mozart, I prefer Bach, We may disagree, but we can still have civil talk. So, how do we treat abortion? In what sense

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Marriage Purchased by Blood!

Protestants, Catholics, Mormons, and others with traditional views, Are defending marriage, in great danger, knowing what they must choose! They defend this Holy institution, risking life and property, yet they do not refuse, Even though they know full well what they might lose! The other side accuses us of being filled with hate? Is it not there rhetoric, not ours, that is so great? We kindly hold up the traditional views of husbands and wives, and what do we get? The threatening of our lives! The “tolerant” ones say things like, “Long lists!” and “Long knives!” How do they handle

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Michael J Fox

Michael J Fox, Is in his tiny box. Fetal stem cells have his mind all twisted, As if adult stem cells never even existed! Adult stem cells cure, and these aren’t just rumors. Fetal stem cells don’t, and they even cause tumors! These microscopic humans are not expendable, And these tiny people aren’t even dependable. Michael J Fox is really quite ill, But does that give him the right to kill? When it comes to a genuine cure, Adult stem cells are morally pure, And the best part of all, is that their value is sure.

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Mother Teresa

Mother Teresa, you are the kindest of the kind. Too bad we don’t have the same thing on our mind. Abortion makes us the poorest of the poor. Too bad these tiny people we can so easily ignore! Abortion is a subtle violence, That makes us lose control. And in the deadly silence, We have forfeited our soul!

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I could have been there, by your side, To comfort you Mama, when you cried. Our laughter, and our smiles- we could have shared, Had you consented to have me there. My little frame, would have known no harm, Had you taken me, and nestled me in your arms. I do not even have your kiss to miss. But, above and beyond all of this, It is your love that to me, would have been bliss. My eyes and their color, you will never know, And why you did this to me, I will never know. Tiny fingers and very

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how much longer will we remain silent?


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