The Bloodied Beautiful

Poppies blossom in a field Where young men once fought Their stories now forgotten As are the lessons that were taught It's blood red petal Is caught by the breeze It's flight brief and glorious Falling on Europe's leas A mother's hopes come crashing With fists knocking on the door Grim faces hide emotion Another casualty of war A hundred years have now passed With lives still being lost Leaders chests still being beaten Detached feelings of the cost