by | Mar 21, 2014 | Poetry | 0 comments

Battalions of brave soldiers died on Flanders battlefields
But the true cost of their giving had not fully been revealed
Going bravely into battle for our freedom, gave their life
Just to fuel another’s ego, how they paid a hefty price
They’re the stolen generation, most were never to grow old
And the few who are remaining have a story to be told
One of hardship and starvation, of disease and shellshock too
And of bravery and courage and belief that they’d come through
While memorial stones stand silent and in rows they form a line
As they’re standing to attention for the soldiers left behind
Yet amidst those fields of slaughter a red flower came to grow
And we use it to remember, both for them and would be foe
When we bow our head in silence, so the world does not forget
The eleventh of November, show respect and pay one’s debt
Let us educate our children, show that there’s a better way
That may guarantee a future where aggression’s had its day
By promoting the red poppy as a symbol for world peace
Gives a message and a meaning that our, ‘Warring has to cease’


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