Thursday, 25 October 2012

The Poppies of my dreams...

In memory of my fallen comrades and those who fall still...

In my dreams
I see him still
Sat beneath the trees,
And not cut off
The remnants of his knees.

In my dreams
I watch them marching still
Across the sodden turf.
The blood still pumping
inside their bodies,
Not spilled upon the Earth.

In my dreams
I'm still one of them,
I did not survive
To live,
A life that they
deserved more than I
A life I cannot give.

In my dreams
we still eat from our mess tins
Laughing and taking the piss.
Knowing the moment is the moment
And that tomorrow
Does not exist!

My dreams are full of poppies
And my comrades still yet live
In the fullness of their youth.
And I now old
remember who...

the real enemy is!

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