Where Be The Angels

On a cold steel table
Deep in the
Antiseptic gray green brick basement of
Some government building
Lies the body of an infant
No longer pink faced and innocent

Who lived a brief but tumultuous life
Over before it really began
Just think about that for a minute

There are no answers

I cried
For this one tiny infant I never knew
Maybe for all the babies who are
Left in the hands of the inept
The stupid
The insane
And I have to ask
Just this one last time

Where be the Angels
Promised us

by Tom Foster

Comments (2)

its a sad world we live in, put the news on and their you go, - any way, great poem..........
This touched me...thank you for writing this. :)