In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
Hearing this poems makes my skin tingle every time. It makes me think about all the sacrifices, boys my age marching out to kill, or be killed. Of course though, theres always the idiots in my highschool who complain that theyre bored. But theyre lucky they dont need to complain about being oppressed by government, or working in a labour camp, thanks to these soldiers. I heard one guy talking about how he doesnt see why he needs to "wear a stupid flower to remember old probably dead dudes" I told him its because "those soldiers were more man than you, more strong than you, more intellegint than you, and they have my respect, and deserve yours too." Everyone agreed and he decided to be smart and shut his mouth. I think some teenagers I go to school with think that war is cool because of all the war video games.... They need to see the real facts about it.
Anyways, enough of my rant. Nice Poem Ned.
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