Matthew Brackley Poet Narrative

In a Poppy Field

In a poppy field.... 
Before the Great War 
Children danced and played... 
In bright colours.... 
That I saw 

The mud churned.... 
Men ,dead 
Men, dying 
Men, bleeding and raw 
Men, crying 
Men, aimlessly led 
Guns, firing, 
in the bright colours that I saw 

Vast regiments.... 
Disappearing in the light.... 
Gone forever.... 
It made no sense 
The wasted men.... 
Gone in to the night 

In a poppy field.... 
After the Great War 
No one danced.... 
No one came.... 
Men, 
With no name 
Sealed.... 
In a trench.... 
In France 

Such despair.... 
In a field of such colour 
I felt it there.... 

The War.... 
To end all wars.... 
In a poppy field 
Where children played 
Bright colours..... 
In a poppy field 
There lay.... 
The hearts of men

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