Who now doth mourn?
Rows of blushing poppies
In quiet fields adorn
Show their grief
Red in their splendour
Soaked in blood unborn
Of young men slain
For yards of stolen disbelief
Of shot stained land
While leaders drink
Red soaked in wine
Out of danger like a thief
Behind the line
Issuing orders unknown to think
Sent them out in blood to dine
While others sons
The lucky ones
In universal towns
Never to know or hear
The pound of guns
Gas filled lungs to drown
Death by unknown blow
Hunger misery shunned
For land one cannot sow
That no one wants or needs
Rows of human seeds
Nursing a mothers love
Where blushing poppies grow
In quiet fields adorn
Who now doth mourn?
