Young men joining the queues, all signing up one by one,
Men joining the army in a smart uniform and a gun.
Young men marching as proudly as can be,
They are going to fight on the front line to keep this country free.
 
At the front line in the trenches they fight,
Dirty and wet fighting through the day and the night.
Bombs dropping and hand hand grenades thrown around,
Injured men screaming and crying out loud,
Men with stretchers running about.  
One bomb lands on the trenches that day,
killed all of them men right away.
 
Them young men joining the queues,
Gave there lives for me and you.
Each one buried in a mass grave its said,
Red poppies growing proud in  honour for those brave men who are dead.
 
© Copyright 2015 Allan Robinson

(2015)

Remembrance time for reflection

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