The poppies bloom
Where e’er we look
As once men fell
Where the earth shook
And cried bitterly.
As families took
Stock of the loss
Stained fields forsook
Untouched by all.
Only Nature does look
And recall by
Red bloom at brook
Those lost fallen
Their lives mis-took
As sacrifice
For men who stayed
Safe from rebuke
Far from their deaths
Losing life as though a hook
Scythed all down like hay

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