In Flanders Fields

I went to the Remembrance Day ceremonies at the cemetery where the war dead are resting and paid tribute to them. The faces of those who walked the city streets seemed more real today as I realized that the likelihood of this chapter of our history could very well happen again. Oh how foolish we are that this happened at all.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

– John McCrae

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