Two thousand four hundred and eleven were buried
Lives stopped and not carried…
To full term, to life, to love
Are now flying over golden streets above
Some say souls turn to angels but that can’t be true
Bible says angels aren’t humans like me and you
So what happens now to those souls?
In heaven, what becomes their roles?
Think they glideon heaven’s swings?
Laughing, running as the dinner bell rings
To dine with the Almighty Father
Where they’re loved, accepted, not a bother
I see them giggling, happy, finally free…
From sin of this world, living in eternity
So don’t cry one more tear for them Sir…Don’t you dare weep again, M’am
For today two thousand four hundred and eleven joyful souls sit at the feet of the Lamb!
Written by Amy Blount
My first poem concerning the tragedy of the 2,411 was: 2,246 because that was the first original amount of fetuses found before more were discovered to make the total 2,411. They now have been laid to rest. Now hearts can heal. So don’t weep for the souls but pray for them affected by their decisions so may years ago, that they may find the Lord.