Bryn Walker

I am 9 years old and live in Belmont Auckland. I enjoy playing sports, surfing, reading and writing. I wrote this poem at school because we were learning about Anzac day. I really liked doing it and so I spent lots of my time making it better. I wrote it all by myself without any help and I am very proud of my poem.
Where the Poppies Grow

Early morning, blue sky,
soldiers waiting for their turn to die.
They know it will happen,
it always does,
it’s the waiting that really hurts us!

Barbed wire everywhere,
men dying in mid air!
Shouts of sorrow,
screams of fear
and the spitting of bullets everywhere!

Countries ruined,
people dead,
all that is what I’ve read!

We run out into no man’s land
bayonets ready and heroic as!
Then suddenly men around me start to fall
as the machine guns open fire!
They lie there peacefully where the poppies grow!

Few come back,
but not as before,
their lives have been ruined from the war!

Blood is splattered down on the floor,
like water paint!
But instead of fun it causes pain!

Men have died but poppies won’t,
so we’ll remember them to remember those who have died in the war,
Where the poppies grow!

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