These days there seem to be no victories,
No marches in triumph between a roaring crowd:
Only the sad parade of sorrow,
The sounds of pain keening on a carrying breeze.
Your friend’s eyes full of sympathy,
Ears catching your confessing words:
But behind the attentive face
He waits the time
To match your grief with his.

Roy William Gotaas

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/deep-and-meaningful-conversations/