Red petals tremble in the wind.
Their sharp black eyes see many things.
Their kinsmen dead,fields run red.
"For Peace!"the polititians said.
Fallen ancestors forgot.
So many souls,and fought for what?
The poppies look up to the sky.
"For Peace!" the polititians cry
So now we live, our freedom bought.
by brave young men.and all for nought!
But poppies red will lift their heads.
In tribute and with thanks.
Salute the brave alive or dead.
all colours,creed and rank.
Lest we forget, war rages yet.
In bleak and barren lands.
More young men dead, the sand runs red.
more bloodshed on their hands.
Old soldiers die.oh how they,d cry!
To see their strife in vain.
In deserts bare,no poppies there.
It all begins again!
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