The Inquisitive Mind of a Child

The Inquisitive Mind of a Child


Why are they selling poppies, Mummy?
Selling poppies in town today
The poppies, child are flowers of love
For the men who marched away
But, why have they chosen a poppy, Mummy?Why not a beautiful rose?
Because, my child, men fought and died
In the fields where the poppies grow
But why are the poppies so red, Mummy?
Why are the poppies so red?
Red is the colour of blood, my child
The blood our soldiers shed
The heart of the poppy is black, Mummy?
Why does it have to be black?
Black, my child, is the symbol of grief
For the men who never came back
But, why mummy, are you crying so?
Your tears are giving you pain
My tears are my fears for you my child
For the worlds is - FORGETTING AGAIN