When I start to feel sad,
I remember all those soliers that fought in the war,
Fighting, shooting ,bombs and more.
It makes me grateful that Im here,
Not over there full of fear,
My mind is racing how it all started,
It makes me feel oh so down harted.
In bed I lie,
As soliders die ,
Buried in Flanders fields,
A poppy shall grow in there place.
The poppy on my chest,
Shall represent,
Those who rest in peace forevermore.

