They were written by a boy in my GCSE history class in 1995. We were studying the First World War and were given the task of writing a short poem. He read this out loud to the class and I have always remembered it. I can't remember if he gave it a title or not, so I have taken liberty with that.
In the wired and connected world we live in, I am not interested in using his words to connect with him again, so he will remain anonymous. I wonder if he even remembers what he wrote. If he does, and ever stumbles here, let him know those words touched me when I was fifteen and still do today, especially on this day of remembrance.
When the standing berry gets shot,
We pick it up and march on.
But we didn't today.
We left the flag on the floor.
Read more at Julia's Place HERE
I can see why this has stuck with you all these years. It's a very powerful image.
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