Bad Breath
In Flanders fields your bad breath blows
Between the crosses, row on row.
That, marked your place, and above all
The larks barely singing then fall
Scarce heard amid the masks below
I feel the Dead. Short days ago,
They lived, felt dusk, saw tide waves flow
Loved and were loved, until your call
In Flanders fields
Get some duct tape for the foe
To you from sickly hands we throw
Some pegs for my nose to build the wall
If ye break faith with us who crawl
We cannot sleep as your bad breath blows
In Flanders fields
Parody based on John McCrae's 'In Flanders Fields'
Copyright © Mark Anthony Bartolo | Year Posted 2020
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