Seventeen—suddenly silences
youthful innocence;
intellect decayed,
common sense delayed
vile emotion obeyed
Seventy—sorrowfully sounds
trumpet of true trust
revealed by elder’s…just
long before soul’s rust
yeoman to fine dust
Silence—settles serenely
on spirit of those—brave
who’d sacrifice to save,
strength that one’s faith gave
solace…cradle to grave
Kenneth Snow
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sos-4/
