In Flanders fields the poppies blow,
Between the crosses, row on row'.
So wrote the poet John McCrae,
Recording the reality of his day.
Now after ninety four years have gone,
The use of the poppy has now moved on.
Instead of remembrance of the brave,
It sends addicted millions to an early grave,
And today our young troops fight and die,
Without anyone asking the real question, why?

In Helmand's fields the poppies blow,
Beside the compounds where they grow,
Surrounded by hidden IED's,
Planted to **** and maim with ease,
The brave young men sent on patrol,
Hoping they return alive and whole,
As they risk all to do their duty,
The poppy crop provides illicit *****,
That funds the continuation of this war,
In which no one can say what we're fighting for!

Tom Higgins 12/11/2012