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Survivors march in memory of the fallen

and comrades stand in silence for the brave

In village square we hear the bugle calling

our children to place poppies at their grave

We gather by the cross as we remember

our fathers, mothers, and their fathers too

Their sacrifice saluted each November

with sorrow for the lives they never knew

But fighting folk are not the only victims

of military deeds done in our name

When warfare follows politicians’ dictums

and tanks and missiles put our streets to flame

The innocent and incidental dead

cry out for policies of peace instead

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