You stood by my grave and cried.
As you thought of me, and how hard I tried.
All the poppy's laid there; dried.
You stay there wishing I hadn't died.
My country sent me to fight.
I thought I would be alright.
In war, nothing is hidden from your eye sight.
And every wound was worse than a dogs bite.
It's not like when we were kids, war is no longer a game.
You have to take real weapons and aim.
Next thing you know, you've set the whole thing to flame.
Now all those people are just names.
In the end, I guess I didn't make it back alive.
You all must have hated the way I arrived.
But war is certainly no test drive.
I just wish I could've survived.
By MaKaylee Power