The Poem with No Name

In the middle of a strange land, some foreign place
The soldier lays bleeding, panic skewing his face.

He can't move to hide from the enemy's scope
Like a child he cries out for his mother with hope.

He's just out of reach of his helpless team
Who are witness to his state and the sound of his scream.

His brothers can't get to him, it's suicide to try
Explosions rock the ground and bullets fly by.

Frantic with terror can't fight or defend
At any minute knowing he'll meet his end.

Those who return home after this bloodbath
Will live forever in the aftermath.

Haunted by visions and sounds you can't know
Unless you'd fought with the men where poppies grow.

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