Infamy

It's hard to think that it could be surpassed,
But seventy years on, I have to say,
Its impact fades a bit. Sure, it will last,
At least I hope, beyond my own short stay,
But now and in the moment worries seem
To always suck away at its recall;
And sometimes it appears a sort of dream
Lost in the past, as winter does to fall.
We then were poor yet sure that we would grow,
Now we are richer, but must fear to shrink.
It was a shock beyond what we can know
In self-consuming times like these. To think
We were attacked at home, and fought
For safety - no, it is beyond our thought.