While We Were Dying

While We Were Dying You cannot know what it is like Facing death at an early age. Too young to understand We were sacrificial. We held the hands of our dying young. Mere boys in their prime, diminished To gaunt, fear filled shadows Of their former vibrance. You looked away, we did not matter. You were fine, this did not touch you. We trembled, young witnesses to countless Young friends and lovers dying. As survivors, reaching the age when One expects to lose older friends, We are painfully reminded; We have to do this again. While in your old age, Witnessing your own old friends dying, Seek compassion, understanding From us; grieving survivors. You ask for what you would not give. Unable? Unwilling? Unseeing? Yet, still we feel with you. In your loss We reflect on, mourn our own.