100 Years Past

He writes this poem, here where he lays,
Sunshine is gone, ad he only sees grey.
Wish he had a bit more time,
He’s in his twenties, he’s in his prime.

But he only had a minute or two,
His body was numb, his face was blue.
He’s so sorry, he did his best,
Life is leaving through his red chest.

It all happened so sudden and so fast,
Can’t help but hurt, 100 years past,
Please don’t mourn, please don’t cry,
He’ll look down on you from the sky.