Field Of Poppies

By Isabelle Hammersley

Row upon row the poppies grow,
Each one a symbol to brave men we will never know.

They stood before us, they stood up straight,
For they were the men, the brave and the great.

The seasons come and the seasons go,
But unlike these men, the poppies will always grow.

We should always wear our poppies with pride
In tribute to those that fought and died.

 

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Pick Me Up Poetry seeks to be an agent of change in society by fostering cross-cultural dialogue and providing much-needed information and representation for writers and performers. We offer our followers insightful glimpses into cultures around the globe through various mediums including our online articles, poetry collections, spoken-word videos and more. 

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