P O P P Y
I thought I saw a soldier I couldn’t tell you why Perhaps the stiffness in his gait As if marching off to die He was elderly and orderly Well dressed and with a tie And wore a scarf and beret Not common in July I imagined him a younger man Filled with grit and pride Swear allegiance to his sovereign Not just along for the ride Lee Enfield cocked and ready Other proud men by his side Full of fear but trusting That together they’d turn the tide I pictured him in full battle cry Leave sodden trench into wire Barbed and razored tearing flesh Headlong into enemy fire The rush and spill of bloody men Through mines and gas and mire The stench of death, no safety near Living hell and its hellfire
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