In flanders fields where the poppies grow men once lay there killed by the foe.

Poppies are red the colour of blood blood that our soldiers shed fighting against the foe.

They marched the trenches side by side past all the men who had died.

Families and friends waiting at home for the men who never came back to them.

People are forgetting again i fear for the world.

I fear it will happen again.

By Luke Hall