I cried out in pain as I read the letter;
My life from this day will never get better.
The lines were blurred as I tried to see
The words that said my son died for country and me.
The years go by, and I still call his name;
The dreams I had will never be the same.
The memories that were of the son I had
Are now nightmares when my days are bad.
Part of me died when my son was killed;
There is an emptiness that can never be filled.
Night after night as I lie in my bed,
I still can’t believe my son is dead.
But the love of a mother can never die,
And I can’t forget, and I sometimes cry.
I keep on living, but I think of the past;
The years go by ever so fast.
When my life on this Earth is finally done,
The emptiness will be gone for I’ll be with my son.
In my thoughts I can see him still;
In my dreams I call his name, Bill.

*     *     *
About the author: Frank Niader (Clifton, NJ) is the brother of Private William Niader (USMC), who was KIA on 12 June 1945, on Kunishi Ridge, Okinawa. Frank wrote the above poem in June 2000, in memory of his brother and their mother, Catherine.

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