Weep
Weep, for the children are dying;
More every passing day.
Weep, for the mothers are crying;
As in their hearts they pay.
Weep, for those who are trying;
The children's lives to save.
Weep, for those denying
There is a life to save.
Weep, for those believing
They only need to pray.
Weep, for those deceiving
The innocent each day.
Weep, for ours is a nation
Whose time is passing by.
Weep, for those whose station
It is to fight and die.
Weep for the proud
Who think they lead the way.
Weep, for the crowd
For they will surely pay.
Weep, with great sadness
For the time is growing near
Weep, allow no gladness,
Instead their cries do hear.
Weep with your heart.
Weep with your soul.
Weep and draw apart.
Weep and be of woe.
Weep, for we are guilty.
Weep, for we are weak.
Weep, for we are filthy.
Weep, for we do sleep.
Weep, for none are ready
For the coming day.
Weep, and be not steady
The time has come to pay.
By betty baker bailey
He Made Me to Hear Their Cries
What's that sound in the darkness . . .
Painful, sad and all alone?
Dare I turn look behind me . . .
Find the source of that sad moan?
There's such grief all around me
My heart pounds at the very thought.
Dare I turn to look and see
The destruction that's been wrought?
Refrain:
The darkness is the saddest place a child could ever be
For in the darkness there's no mom to hold a little me.
And there my heart was broke apart by what me eyes did see
For all around were little ones whom Jesus meant to be.
There's a child in the darkness . . .
Wailing sadly all alone.
A lil' baby sent to bless
Left so cold and on his own.
Made with care to perfection
For a special mom and dad.
But scarred by their rejection;
And denied the life he had.
What's that sound in the darkness?
It's not one, not two nor three.
There's thousands in the darkness
Crying out to you and me.
That sad sound in the darkness
Is so pitiful a cry.
They're still hurting in the darkness
While they wait on you and I.
That sad sound in the darkness;
Keeps on ringing in my ears
As I'm turning in the darkness
I'm facing my worst fears.
They're mangled in the darkness
Crying tears so forlorn
For once they're in the darkness
There's no hope to be born.
There's my heart in the darkness
With each chamber ripped apart.
For each child in the darkness
He has lain inside my heart.
Its so sad in the darkness
That I fall upon my knees
And reach out in the darkness
For the children that He sees.
Come with me to the darkness.
Where you're sure to hear their cries.
And see if in the darkness
You can still believe those lies.
Those who cry in the darkness
With such a mournful voice
Were sent into that darkness
By this nations' need for choice.
He, who gives life, made me to hear their cries.
He, who hears them, made me to see their tears.
He, who knows the truth, showed me that all the lies
Uttered throughout all these years
Are but a poor excuse
To take innocent lives.
Oh, what rights abuse
For a few fives.
by betty baker bailey
Little Innocents
How do you sleep little child of my heart?
Are you afraid of the sounds in the dark?
Does your little heart race at your mother's voice?
Are you terrified of her need for choice?
How do you dream little child all alone?
Do you think how you'd be if you ever got grown?
Do you wish for a kiss or a warm full breast?
Do you long for the peace of a safe night's rest?
How is your life little one, do you play?
Do you turn? Do you Kick? Do you push away?
Do you look at your hands? Your fingers or toes?
Have you reached out and to touched the tip of your nose?
How do you grow little one in the womb?
Does each new cell bring the dread of your doom?
Do you hate each change? Do they bring you fear?
Do you wonder why no one seems to hold you dear?
How do you fight little one, for you life?
Do your little feet kick hard against the knife?
Do you try to hold on when the suctioning starts?
Does it hurt when they pull your limbs apart?
How do you die little one, do you cry?
Do you wonder why your mom believed the lie?
Do you grab at the one who breaks your neck?
Do you doubt that anyone gives a heck?
How does it feel when you're tossed to the side?
Do you hear or see the ones that denied
That you were alive in your mother's womb;
That they killed you and put you in the tomb?
But what do they do with what's left of you?
Do they put you away in a box that is new?
Do they sing you a song or shed a tear?
Or do they laugh a little and go have a beer?
Did you know you eyes are worth some money?
That your parts are used like bees use honey?
Though no one cared enough to let you live
They all care to see just how much you can give.
For each precious part there is now a price.
The ones who killed you think it's quite nice.
They all line their wallets with your skin
And call it 'just research' to your kin.
They who took an oath to 'do no harm'
Destroy the hope of the unborn.
Taking little lives, they call them naught
Earning a profit from the anguish they've wrought.
And where is mom while this is done?
Does she fight for the life of her little one?
Is she screaming for help or running to hide?
Does she not hear your cries from deep down inside?
And dad, who's so strong, why does he not care?
Does he not know the torture you endure there?
Doesn't grandma or grandpa hear your plea,
'Will no one . . . no, no one please care for me'?
But wait, little one, surely there must be laws?
To take guiltless life must truly give pause?
Some penalty, some cost, some great price paid
By those who dare make your little light fade?
What justice will judges and rulers bring you?
Surely they will defend you, as is your due?
Or will they also turn their face aside
And in their dark hearts the truth hide?
Let's go to those who claim to speak for God;
Those who say they follow where Jesus trod.
They most surely must be screaming out in anger
Warning against the impending danger.
Whatever will become of such a nation
Where innocents are given no earthly station;
Where helplessness is such a horrible curse
And death is meted out to those who nurse?
Oh, where have you gone little one of my heart;
Little eyes, little fingers, little toes, little heart?
Do you look at this world from heaven above
And wonder . . . yes, wonder, what is this thing we call love
by betty baker bailey
