Colin F. Jones


Where did my dear friend’s young life go?
I guess I really cannot know,
But I guess its passing was not seen,
by two bright eyes his wife wooing.
And what young man would notice time,
who seldom stooped down to recline,
who marching off to fight a war,
so many horrors in it saw…
and who possessed with fear and shock,
saw not the perpetual ticking clock,
that wore away his youth and pride,
with traumatic thoughts of friends who died…
who now are still present on parade,
due to his good thoughts which never fade.

This poem is a response to “Lost Youth” – ©Copyright July 15, 2003 by David R. Alexander