- THE 1940s -
One thousand nine hundred and forty years;
 A decade divided by war and peace
And thus separated by joy and tears
 Which continue to stain when bullets cease.
Where are the boys I once saw in the street?
 They were still playing a moment ago;
Their loss makes victory dark as defeat
 And their stars in windows refuse to glow.
Perhaps we have learned from this battle fought
 Taming a tyrant works best when he's small
Lest someday we sacrifice all for naught
 And suffer the evil that might befall.
    Dare I hope a lasting peace is achieved?
    If not, I lament tomorrow's bereaved.