This was my friend

This is a poem I'm working on to enter in a contest I would like to know what you think:

(I'm going to add some context to the explanation of the origin of this poem. I worked as a nurse in the Netherlands for 6 years and attended to many elderly patients, some went through the war in different ways some behind fences others trying to survive in a different way. I heard so many of their stories and through learning about the Dutch history and documentaries I came to meet many who I came to see as my friends. This poem and my book "THE BICYCLE TRIP" is going to be my tribute to those who survived all of that, walked out of these camps and rebuild the world for us, I guess I just want to say thank to them.)


This was my friend
At Warsaw,
Silently a hero
Who gave his life
Like a gift,
Withholding nothing.

His smile...his touch....
His enjoyment of being alive....
His future, like a dove
One still learning to fly.

This was my friend
At Warsaw...
The one who taught me to ride a bicycle,
When I was eight,
Always holding on tightly to the frame,
Never late.

He was awfully good at helping others,
At running out to one's aid.

That's what he did at Warsaw;
He was helping.
And even Death must have been a little ashamed
At his fate!


Received honorable mention.