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

Tom Foster

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/where-be-the-angels/