Armistice day
Armistice day
In Flanders everywhere you go
Poppies and crosses, row on row
Paint the corn with drops of red,
To show us where our soldiers bled.
So on this day we call to mind
The fallen who were left behind.
But we should also call the roll
For those returned with damaged soul;
As well as limbless, blind and lame,
Whose lives will never be the same,
Who cannot sleep two hours together
For whom the fight goes on forever.
They shudder, these neglected ones,
They hear the noise of phantom guns;
The father, brother, son or friend
For whom the war will never end.
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