When I entered the gym
with my peers all around,
I was laughing, cajoling,
No tears could be found.

"Free time," I was thinking,
"Free to leave with my friends.
If I go, they wont notice.
I'll be back by the end."

Now, the seats filled with people
like a child's cup, pop,
And the noise of the students
Could mask a bomb-drop.

No-one noticed my presence
As I skipped to the door,
My head filled with the notion
That I'd be back by four.

As I reached the room's entrance
The noise slowly ceased,
I could feel heads revolving
And held-breath released.

Interest piqued only slightly
I paused in mid-step,
To glance at the child
Walking slowly, she wept.

In her small, shaking hands
was a wreath decked in gold,
And alough it was stifling
The air turned deathly cold.

Her mousy brown hair
Was tied up in a knot,
She was thirteen or fourteen,
"My age", was my thought.

My eyes focused briefly
On the greens she held back,,
As I noticed the picture
Within the small plaque.

A young man smiled brightly
All teeth and brown hair,
The same eyes as the child
Who had reached the stage stairs.

Slowly, precisely,
She faced her young crowd,
"My father" She whispered,
"Was never allowed."

"His parents were strict,
They had dreams for their son.
They said, 'go off to college!
Set off, be someone!"

"But my father-"
At this, her eyes dropped to the ground,
Her held-in sobs flourished,
As she gestured around.

"My father was stubborn,
Had morals, beliefs.
He would serve for his country
Till' he's six feet beneath."

Eyes wide, lips apart,
As I watched her chest heaving,
Mesmerized by the speaker,
I'd forgot about leaving.

My years were so tender,
My naiveté true ,
As this symbol of heartbreak's
Should have been too.

The effect that she had
on myself and the crowd
Was lost to this girl
Who's soft words seemed so loud.

"Remembrance day,"
Eyes of steel, stating clear,
"Thanks for coming today,
I feel that he's near."

"I hope that he's watching,
up there, in the sky,
I hope that he sees
that I'm not gonna cry."

"So this is for you."
And she placed her wreath down,
the room was so silent,
You could hear it touch ground.

"For you, my dear father,
for your 'lets play guns' friends,
For Canada's allies,
For the enemies’ men."

"For the sinner, the saint,
the dead nurse in that trench,
For the families who wait here
so broken and bent."

"Its all war, its all wrong!
We're above, its beneath,
Here’s a symbol, a token.
A memory wreath."

With her hands wringing tightly
as she walked out the door,
I sat down real slowly,
And stared at the floor.

The rest of the hour
passed with trumpets and tears,
But every moment of remembrance
Was lost to my ears.

My mind was so riveted,
My heart was so full,
of the horror and heartbreak
when a trigger is pulled.

He was young, he was brave!
And that girl broke my heart,
He had lost every moment,
Every end, every start.

He had given it all
just to serve and defend,
left a family, a child,
And embraced his young end.

"Tonight," I vowed roughly,
eyes fixed straight ahead,
"I'll buy fifteen red poppies
For each year that I've led.

"It will be my reminder
that I have it so well,
My memory wreath,
my own wishing well."

Support them, all people,
All ages and races,
Hold their back, hold their hand,
Let your peace take you places.

For that girl could be you,
Could be me, could be them,
Don't let war take you prisoner
Don't let this be the end.