Late at night
When the world is still
I shed a tear
For the lost, gone
Evenings alone
When love is dashed
I cry a river
For the gone, lost
Mornings rising
When clear mixes with cool
I sob in my pillow
For the lost, gone
I think of them
In the scorching lands
Weeping to themselves
For the, gone, lost
Boys.
Missy Lynn
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/war-25/
