Eternal Boasting
This spring day, young men fighting
Barbed Self-confidence
.
Suddenly falls down
Dying, mother on his lips
Rushing pain, peace waits
.
Clouded sick visions
It takes him a month to die
Peace waits ruefully
.
Family laments
His much too short life a waste
Miss you son good by
.
Alone in old age
They ask what would they have been
Our grandchildren