Remembrance Sunday – 11 November

For two minutes each year
I ask you to pause
And think of me

I lie on a foreign shore
In pristine grave, or unknown field
And buried at home

My death, unrecorded in battles past
Reported last week, as I fight today
Inscribed on memorials to battles yet to come

Cut down in my prime
I stand with my brothers
Young and old alike

I stand, bearing the scars of battles fought
Scars of limbs and the mind
As much a ghost as those who fell

And for two minutes each year
I ask you to pause
And think of me

For two minutes I ask
That you remain silent
As I shall forever be

And remember, remember me
Who am not here
And those like me, who remain

I ask you to remember
For two minutes each year
What price was paid for those two minutes

A price greater than the coins
You hastily spent
For a scarlet flower

The rest of the year is yours
Years I cannot have
Where I am forgotten by all

Except those like me
Who can never forget
Who will never forget

“The Glorious Dead” are remembered
But what of “The Glorious Survivors”
Are we to be forgot?

For two minutes each year
I ask you to remember
My brothers, past, present and future

But for the rest of the year
All that we ask
Is that you do not forget

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