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People come on this day of grief,
To mourn the others with their disbelief.
The people we mourn are not lost souls,
But people who have had time take its toll.

The mothers, the daughters, remember their fathers and sons,
Who had to hold the bloody guns.
We hang our heads to show respect,
This is the time to reflect.

The death, the sorrow, the suffering,
The loss, the cries, the lonesome screaming.
A poppy we wear on our hearts today,
For those poor soldiers who lead the way.

Two minutes of silence to remember the dead,
The soldiers now lie in their cold coffin bed.
What happened back then is happening once more,
Wars always hit man right at the core.

How many more times till we’ve healed the hurt?
How many more must we put in the dirt?
No one can forget how many people are dead,
From the blood in the ocean the water ran red.

November 11th we stop and pray,
At the 11th hour of this sad day.

Donna L. LePine