Oh! you who sleep in Flanders Fields,
Sleep sweet - to rise anew!
We caught the torch you threw
And holding high, we keep the Faith
With All who died.

We cherish, too, the poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led;
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
But lends a lustre to the red
Of the flower that blooms above the dead
In Flanders Fields.

And now the Torch and Poppy Red
We wear in honor of our dead.
Fear not that ye have died for naught;
We'll teach the lesson that ye wrought
In Flanders Fields.
Moina Michael

In remembrance of those that have died, so that we may live, those that we should never forget, those that are missing loved ones currently fighting in far away lands, those that will never return.

For one grandfather, who I never got to know, who was killed in WWII, the Grandfather who never spoke about the horrors he saw, for a Grandmother who survived to tell her tale, for a Grandmother who had to bring up a child after losing everything.

Let us remember those who have suffered, are suffering and pray that one day sense and reason will one day prevail.

Never forget.