Poppies grow for those who died
In fields of poppies, remembrance lies.
The colour of the flower, a flaming bright red,
Showing a resemblance of the blood they hath shed.
The blood did not go, unnoticed, no
For every loss their tears would flow.
A day that saddened everyone's hearts,
As with their loved ones they did part.
Brave people buried where poppies lay,
That we should remember them on this day.
So remember the people whose sorrows they mend,
And the brave ones who fought right to the end.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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