I’ve watched my Father filled with pride
march with his comrades side by side
up to the Cenotaph to lay
his poppies on Remembrance day.
It fills me with so much regret
to think that fighting goes on yet.
I’ve stood beneath the Menin Gate
and listened to the Last Post played.
I’ve seen the countless names inscribed
upon that monument with pride.
It fills me with a deep despair
to think war still goes on elsewhere
I’ve viewed the lines of headstones white.
It really is an awesome sight
to see them stood there row on row
as if with covering of snow.
It fills me with such sorrow still
and in my heart it always will.
On Sunday, with the rest I’ll stand,
my Fathers medals clutched in hand
and in my mind I’ll question why
so many young men had to die.
And, while the answer still I seek,
I’ll close my eyes, I’ll pray and weep.