Sad Poem by Richard Betts

It's sad to think of a young man's mother,
Clutching pictures of her smiling son.
So sad to think of a young man's brother,
Who is now the only one.

Did he die for his country?
Well, I never heard any bells.
Some say he died for the rich men,
And that he died for their oil wells.

His eyes were bright like fire,
Now they are blank instead.
The blueness is gray in color,
And the fire within them is dead.

The dawn gives birth to another day,
The sun blooms and shines.
And when the sky is sunny,
We tend to shield our eyes.

From the horror, the death
And the travesty,
That accompanies
Purple mountains' majesty.

I pray for my country
That its wisdom will match its strength,
I pray for our leaders,
And I pray at great length...

That I never see another
Black granite wall,
Etched with the names
Of all those who have yet to fall.