Drinking Under the Moon

"Poetry and hums aren't things which you get, they're things which get you. All you can do is go where they can find you" – A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

Unknown

At the centenary of WW1, we will remember them.

Drinking Under the Moon

Remember me, when I am gone.

When life has lost another one.

Let me slip beneath the fires of hell,

Unnoticed by an unwelcome knell.

Let me not be scarred by war

As all I know that went before.

Youth becomes me even now,

As I take to the stage, a final bow.

When the emptiness of death

Has taken all but one last breath.

I will not think of starry skies

Or waste good air on wordless cries.

I shall leave it all instead,

To this tiny flower, stained with red.

The poppy grows all caked in mud,

It thrives in rubble, dirt and blood.

Remember ME

It stands alone as if a flag,

Waving out this bloodied rag.

Declaring loud for all to see,

a silent, iridescent plea

That asks if you remember me.

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This entry was posted on August 4, 2014 by in Uncategorized.
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