FOUR HELMETS
Four helmets and eight boots
Placed in a row
The crew of a Huey
We will no longer know
Anger within us
The fear doesn't show
Grief well contained
Lest the tears start to flow
With these guys we partied
From youth we did grow
We ask why many times
But don't want to know
The grim reaper is busy
His fields he must mow
We pray for the helmets
And boots in a row