Red, bright, glaring,
vivid amongst the green,
lying on the cold grey stone.
Remembering you,
the Dead.
Our Heroes.
Red as your blood,
spilled on a battlefield far from home.
The stone cold as the ground,
you laid and died upon.
Fighting for our freedom,
for who and what we are.
Tears for the loved ones lost,
drip silently down the cheeks of many,
glistening like the dew on your graves.
Sobs of grief echo around,
remembering your final days,
hollow from pain.
Boots and shoes pounding the pavement,
as many of you marched on before,
we march to Remember you,
on Remembrance Day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have every Veterans heart