The flowers cascade down like tears,
I see a woman crying.
I see hundreds, thousands of women crying.
In every poppy,
In every petal,
I see every broken heart.
She lost a son,
a husband,
a father,
a brother.
I see British women,
German women,
Russian women,
French women.
Women from every country,
every culture,
of every caste and creed.
Not just those from the Great War,
but from all wars,
I see ancient Egyptians crying for the losses in Megiddo,
and I see Syrian refugees.
I see some are angry,
at politicians and rulers for waging war,
at there loved ones for going to war,
at their gods for being so cruel.
I see some are proud,
of their country for not backing down,
of their men for braving battle.
But all of them cry,
and in their tears,
I drown.
We have not learned from history,
and I fear the cycle will never end,
and the tears will always flow,
and one day humanity will drown in it all.
I recently visited Liverpool and whilst I was there I saw the Weeping Window an art installation for Remembrance Day. I started to think about the name, I couldn't see a window, and instead I started to picture a widow crying tears of red petals and that led to this.
