What could have been

I stand still looking over the field
Silent spirits fly through the air
Red poppies scattered all around
To remember the dead from this battle ground

The red represents a blood so cold
That was shed for King and country
So many families were torn apart
Left with nothing but a broken heart

Not enough lived to tell their story
So I stand here with my Grandson
Telling him of those who were brave
But only achieved an early grave

He looks my way, into my eyes
Grabs my hand and holds it tight
He whispers softly into my ear
I'm glad and lucky that you are here

Those words mean more than any medals
They fill me up with everlasting emotion
That sums up my wanting to survive
The gratefulness I have to be alive

And so I fly over the fields
Entwined with the silent spirits
Poppies being given life from my death
For it was many years ago since my last breath

But still I can fly and just imagine
Telling the stories to my Grandson
But he is someone I will never know
As I was left to fly alone

War took the lives of so many
We are left to think 'What could have been'
We died so cruelly, especially me
A bullet through the head, I will never be free.