Another Funeral

Time, Inc.

They die, those old ones
who survived the Depression,
knew hunger and struggle,
who fought a desperate war,
kids themselves, willing to die
for their unborn children,
hoping to make a richer,
peaceful, better world
where hope might flourish.

Now we stand silently
on the lip of the grave
knowing we are next,
trying to look brave.

Wondering if we were
worthy of their sacrifices,
knowing we are not.

That generation passes away.

We live on a while
in this diminished day,
sad that their dreams
went so badly astray.