| "The casualties are light," the news line reads, | "My son a 'casualty'? He is our world - |
| As blazoned headlines tell of allied victories - | His father's radiant sun ... my star of hope ... |
| "The beginning of the end," our President | The bright fulfillment of our earthly dreams. |
| And others say; the cynic disagrees. | How dare the god of War thus interlope!" |
| "The casualties are light," a mother reads - | Dear God in Heaven, take him safely home, |
| Then meets the dreaded knock at her front door - | While outraged comrades carry on the fight, - |
| "The War Department... (steady now!) ... regrets ..." - | While every man and woman, youth, and child |
| The morning sun is dimmed ... forevermore. | Work valiantly - to keep the death list light. *** |
Florence B. Taylor