MY POPPY – A Poem

This November it’s been 100 years
Since young soldiers dried away their tears
Marching home to victory and pride
But I know, they were still hurting deep inside

The war to end all wars it was said
But that was never really put to bed
Another war of blood and guts
From the air, the sea
Taking cover in the ruts

I was once a soldier in more modern times
Conflict is still here across all lines
I laughed, I cried, I stared, I grinned
Through the heat and the cold
The still and the wind

I’ll never forget my mates left and right
Our aim to be one, and to never lose sight

Now I’m older and have time to reflect
It hurts to think of war’s effect
Whatever the reason, we’re human on all sides
I’m sure we could just talk to heal the divides

I wear a poppy upon my breast
As I stand alone, pushing out my chest
For all the wars’ dead is what my poppy is for
Especially the men and women of the First World War.

---

 

MY POPPY

A Poem by Bob Shepherd