At The Cenotaph
And see my flag against the sky.
Amidst a crowd of young and old
I remember those who died.
To remember for a spell.
Each person there in reverence,
A red poppy in lapel.
Has answered to the call,
To send the young from many nation
To claim freedom for us all.
To fight on land and air and sea,
They left their families back at home
To go and fight for you and me.
Often alone across the sea,
They braved the dreadful battles
So we might live in liberty
They fought in cold and flood,
In smells of gas and gun and gangrene stenches
Lay bodies broken soaked in blood.
They battled for our right
And even once themselves found peace
One quiet Christmas night.
They still fight for freedom's cause
That we will know what freedom means
Remember with red poppy and silent pause.
To steal the lives of youth?
Will there ever be a lasting peace
With Freedom, honour, truth?
To hear bugle, pipe and drum.
I remember always why they died,
The price of freedom won
'Neath bronzed soldiers on cement.
I remember why those soldiers died,
What their sacrifice has meant.
But remembered each generation.
Why we live in freedom free of strife
All across our nation.
At the cenotaph to remember,
Who gave up life for freedom's cause,
A vigil we keep each cold November.
Freedom's opportunities I seize,
And pray to God the price they give
Brings ever lasting peace.
In my lapel it will be set,
To remind me of those soldiers lost,
Lest we forget.
My cries I try to stifle,
When at the cenotaph I stand
With helmets rested on tripod of rifle.