Where Wild Flowers Grow

Where Wild Flowers Grow. Children playing in the evening sun running around, just having fun. Dogs chasing balls happy to play rolling in the grass late in the day. A couple sitting on the ground trying not to make a sound. Where so much happened, long ago on the field where wild flowers grow. This was a place long before where men shed blood in a war. A place of such horror and pain where men fought and men were slain. Living in trenches with blood stained pools with weapons of war, their only tools. It’s hard to imagine, long ago on the field where wild flowers grow. Fledgling birds are trying to fly into the bright evening sky. Someone there is trying to pray children think it’s a place for play. But you can still clearly see where the trenches used to be. Life is so different, than long ago on the field where wild flowers grow. An old man stands on his own he seems content to be alone. With tears rolling down his face haunted by memories of this place. He was here when he was young cold and scared carrying his gun. When life was harsh, long ago on the field where wild flowers grow.