The soldiers gathered at the wreath I remember.
The coffin covered just beneath I remember.
The poppies at the corner store I remember.
The amputees the coins were for I remember.
The fighters flying through the sky I remember.
The trail of red to catch the eye I remember.
The bombers at the airport strip I remember.
The radar with the foreign blip I remember.
The sailors with the semaphore I remember.
The air raids to incoming horror I remember.
The sailors with the folded flags I remember.
The victims to their body bags I remember.
The granite tomb to seal them in I remember.
The sign outside to say we win I remember.
The cemeteries many stones I remember.
The flowers growing through their bones I remember.
The bugle player playing taps I remember.
The Sergeant Major never claps I remember.
The crosses planted by their head I remember.
The helmets hanging off for dead I remember.
The Legion playing in the band I remember.
The drummer pausing for a stand I remember.
The legion drinking in the hall I remember.
The stories being shared by all I remember.
The rifles firing twenty-one I remember.
The bullets deafening to the gun I remember.
The widows left at home alone I remember.
The women of the bombs been blown I remember.
The cannon shot to send the ball I remember.
The powder black to scare us all I remember.
The poem we know as Flanders Field I remember.
The author killed within it's yield I remember.
The unknown soldier questioned who I remember.
The final words our thanks to you I remember.