by Larry Powers

Created on: August 30, 2009

To Young Men Lost


'Twas not with abandon he fought, or with courage undaunting -
this man, yet a boy inside - nor was it a prowess flaunting.
In the darkness of night, he cried - and none could hear in the silence -
almost afraid to breathe, where men had died without reverence.
When dawn's fog floated like a ghost, he was not afraid to pray.
Soon, as mortars erupted, skies would become a deathly gray,
and on fields of killing, the lifeblood of men would waste away.
The visions of mangled bodies now return at night, haunting
his dreams-nightmares of screaming boys bedeviling his conscience.
And he remembers his buddies who'd hoped to come home one day.

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