The Bugle Boy
The Bugle Boy
Who will remember the bugle boy?
Who knows the place where he fell?
Where he lay alone on the cold wet ground
while death played its dreadful knell.
Who would know of his final thoughts?
Who was there at his final breath?
Who will have held the young boy’s hand
as he faced his lonely death?
His bones still lie on a foreign field
far from the stone that lists those lost.
Who reads the names of those gallant men?
Who was left counting the cost?
The blood still stains the silent soil
that covered the young boy’s face
and a bugle plays through the winds of time
where poppies now mark the place.
Who will remember the bugle boy;
who lived and died too soon?
Who grieved the loss of the bugle boy?
Who played his final tune?
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