As my next heart beat grows further from my first
and closer to my last.
I look back into the years
and to those friends left in my past.
Old soldiers whose years now pass. Each day
our faces wrinkle our hands callous
our hair turns a shade of gray.
Our dearest friends grow old no more
Their hair will never gray
They age no more
Not a hour nor a day
They feel no pain since the day they fell.
Their brows will never crease
with worry or some horrid pain.
Our memories of them will never cease.
a promise made years ago as we stood in the rain.
I visited my friends and yes I stood tall
But no matter how much I tried
I broke and cried
As I knew those names upon the Wall.
SFC Thomas E. Ward USAR RET
66-67