Precious, Youthful, Lost

Innocence embodied in child
Tragedy in fleshly same,
They end in sudden communion
And extinguish a youthful flame.

A mournful mother cries,
But the child sees no tears.
A wishful father sighs
When reality meets his fears.

Sons watch fathers die.
And sadness they behold.
But tragedy’s personified
When young ones pass the old.

From precious youthful lost
A parent never heals.
Though time may dull the pain
Completeness never yields.

While memories sustain us
They come at quite a cost.
The price of one’s own child:
Of precious youthful lost.

Michael P. Van Gilst