The Fallen

• Claire Sprowell, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2017

Thousands of men in the prime of their ,
Left their children and their wives.
Bound for war with its endless pain,
Many never returned home again.
The young men thought it was just a lark,
Till they suffered starvation and mourned in the dark.
For the mates they lost each biter long day,
As they fought to keep their enemies at bay.
They waded knee deep through the putrid mud,
To collect the bodies all covered in blood.
Those valiant men so loyal and brave,
were buried at night in a shallow grave.
Over the battlefields of grief and woe,
Beneath the white crosses poppies now grow.
We should be grateful all of our life,
To all those who paid the ultimate price.