A poppy pinned

A poppy pinned

Poppies in a grassy field are seen,

In Flanders' wide and tortured fields.

Splotches of red upon a sea of green,

Remind us of those who did not yield,

But chose to stand against the flood

Of forces poised to steal our peace

And even scared, stood firm so we

Could live lives free of tyranny.

But that was years ago, say you.

Tell me it straight, what did they do?

They stood beneath the field of war

In trenches dug with sweat covered hands

They stood for neither rich or poor

But for every child, woman, man

They are the cries of friends and foes

Thrown down upon that muddy waste

Barbed wire stood where grass had once

Yet all of this they chose to taste.

Upon the bugle's rally cry

They mounted ladders slick with rain

And charged, those brave men, their's to try

To buy our freedom through their crimson stain.

Now near one hundred years ago

On Flanders' fields they took their stand.

Many gave their lives to show

That evil could not take our land.

So stand with them upon this day

Free to live your lives in peace

A poppy pinned to stake our thanks

For men and women and died for you and me.