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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.
Copyright ©
Keith Warren
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