There once was a bundle of poppies
The brightness of their life
The flowers brought the children joy
The adults, some hope
For if something this beautiful
Striving in the darkest hour
In the good vase
Some flowers wilting
But some bursting with red
This gives them hope, and joy, and peace
Some forget, that though beautiful, the poppies are simply
Dead.
I've been writing a lot more recently, this is an older poem