The Fallen

 

Everyday I walk past the town war memorial

at its base a few poppy wreaths lie from the previous year

The names remain the same, some we knew

they have pride of place in our community

 

On Armistice Day the traffic is halted

we gather in sorrowful silence, heads bowed

Different emotions and reasons compel our presence

we stand often looking beyond the stone

 

We see our own lives, our vulnerabilities

which make us who we are

We love, play, work and enjoy

whereas they no longer can

 

An eighteen year old lad fresh faced

arrived at the front line for the first time

In ten minutes he lay dead, shot in the head

no more love, play, work or enjoyment to be had

 

A few handerkerchiefs, a line of medal ribbons

we stand and shudder against a westerly wind

A little girl screams and drops her teddy bear

a fallen symbol from a pure heart