The Pro-Life Nazi March :: Personal Narrative Writing

The Pro-Life Nazi MarchThe picture of a bloody foetus torn apart by a surgeons scalpel danced overhead in the doubtful sky. I stared at the swaying poster and at the tiny body finesse in a green garbage bag. Around it, hundreds of similar signs make full the sky with b cover words and colors as a long mass of men, women and children paraded under them in a huge march. I stared at the marchers, disbelieving of the sight in front of me. They were the Pro-Lifers, marching in elevate of banning abortion as a choice and a right for women. I stopped on the sidewalk and looked up toward the White home plate and then back in the other direction. Both my cousin and I hadnt expected to see anything but the usual Washington museum exhibits and eateries that day quite we got caught up in a march that neither of us believed in and one that I wouldnt have chosen to see. The march seemed to have no beginning and no end it seemed as though it went on for miles. I looked at the mass of pile i n awe, amazed that so umpteen people could organize to fight for something they believed in. Id never seen something of this scale and I was stunned by its mass and power. As we got finisher to the marchers, my excitement, and my disgust, grew. The march seemed never-ending people were filing up Pennsylvania Avenue, shouting slogans and wave their posters in the air. They marched in concert in unity, spilling over onto the sidewalks and flooding the street. The Pro-Lifers marched side by side, at least(prenominal) fifteen people across, line after line. I began to look closer at the faces of the protesters, looking at the marchers so I could see and toy with those who were so violently opposed to a womans right to choose. Women were marching, denying their rights, and among the huge bunch were children. I saw one child sitting on his fathers shoulders, waving a sign with pictures of dead babies as other children marched in the street, interpret anti-abortion slogans. I couldnt believe it. Children barely old enough to read the signs they were carrying or understand the slogans they sang marched along with their parents, brainwashed into denying women their right to chose. I go along to watch the posters and cardboard signs as they went by.