Let's hold each other's hands,
And in silence, stand
Where the fields of poppies grow,
Let us remember them
Our brave young men
Buried just below.
For those who cried
As they lay down and died,
So very far from home,
With just white clouds,
Deaths gossamer shrouds
Covering their tortured bones.
Let's think a little more,
Is liberty worth dying for?
Is freedom the ultimate cause?
The white wooden crosses,
Exemplify those losses,
The bloody price paid in wars.
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