The Children who never cried.

 They never opened their eyes. Never saw sunlight, never felt rain, never heard the sound of their own cry.

They came as a whisper, and left in silence.

We call it "choice." we call it "My body, my right."

But strip away the slogans, and what's left? A heartbeat that stopped. A life that could have been, erased before it began.

Once upon a time, ending a pregnancy was spoken in hushed voices, with trembling hands and tear-stained cheeks.

Now?

It's normal. It's quick. It's a service booked between errands. We have made it convenient to forget that this is not just a "procedure" it's the unmaking of a future.

A story ripped out before the first chapter is written. Some will say, "it's not the right time." But was it the child's fault the timing was wrong?

Some will say "it's not my responsibility."

But whose responsibility is it to protect the voiceless?

Every child who never cried leaves an invisible mark on this world. A gap in the chain of humanity. 

A laugh that will never be heard. A pair of hands that will never create. 

And here's the truth nobody wants to face, when we stop mourning the loss of life, we stop valuing life at all. 

And when that happens, it's not just the children we lose. We lose ourselves