As I walk through the Poppy Fields
Watching the Red Flower glow
I pause, and reflect, on the men that fell
Men I didn’t even know.

Loved ones from a different time.
Taken from us in their prime
Bodies lying dead strewed all around
The grave stones of people from all different towns.

In the Poppy fields as I ponder
I sit and think and often wonder
What might have been all those