If you’re of child-bearing age
The odds are huge that you or he
Use contraception at some stage
No matter what your faith might be.
That’s what much hush-hush polling shows
How we have fun without our clothes.
So ladies, are you left agape,
At Ryan’s brawl with birth control?
Abortion, too, albeit rape
Or incest scarring mother’s soul?
Or sentencing for life a child,
Deformed, discomfited, reviled?
Paul comprehends as personhood
A human egg just fertilized,
And if aborted, understood
To be a murder micro-sized.
Your morning-after pill, a hug,
And if you’re ratted out, the jug?
It’s Ryanhood—sex in reverse,
Which in my judgment makes no sense.
A gorgeous wife but not averse
To years and years of abstinence?
Hey wait! Once more my snooping bids:
How come they only have three kids?
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