Submitted by: Liam O’Connor
We are the sons of our father's
We were the lovers to be
We are the ghosts
We were the boys so vain
In the field’s of green once a river of red flowed but we shall never rise from it’s depths
We are the echo of the past though your ears remain deaf to our dying breath
In the field's of shattered dreams lies the bygone of what was
In the room lays the tattered book of rhymes of joy
The giggle of the child so fragile and still when life was but a fleeting thought
The mother's weeping over the cradling tomb
What was and what is can not be understood
The stones now stand up for all who pass
But they can not comprehend yet still they try to see
For the rain washed away the pain but not our cries!
Forget me not! Forget me not! I am here! See the flowers grow!
In the field's of poppies and the sea of gold we are here still! We are the breath in the wind!
Yet we are forever silent like the Guns of War.....