Eric Bernard Johnson

A thoughtful gentle quiet boy,
The Eric that we knew.
Competitive by nature though,
He played both hard and true.

He read the history of the war,
Thought we should not be there;
But when his country called, he went,
With blessings and with prayer.

The day soon came our world crumbled,
Word came that he'd died.
We clung together unbelieving,
With breaking hearts we cried.

Sometimes we still see Eric there
Where he had walked before,
And still we cry that he has died,
Forever twenty four.