We march the street with dominant determination

in hopes of not only making a change, but curing a crisis.

Within each stride we ride our roar

amoung thousands of fighters who share that encore.

For life is sacred and death creeps in,

like a mantle of mystery the light does dim.

Everyone has a right to life,

every baby, child, husband, and wife.

So why is it that we are labeled as dead

once our heart ticks at its final hour,

only to never be classified as alive

after our heart has its first pulse to survive.

With every voice heard down the streets of our capital,

we could feel the energy empowering the crowd.

Each poster, each chant, each body

all in rhythm to take action before another baby dies.

For everyone who is for abortion has been born 

and life is a right, no matter the situation, sign, or size.