Forget the Parade

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Oh you can tell
from that bewildered face
he isn’t happy in this place

Here come flags
and banging drums
the marching men
the single mums

He hates these men
his dads old muckers
drunken medal wearing
fuckers

When poppies fall in civic halls
his only thought
to burn them all
for all he wants is what he had
the fallen poppy
he called dad

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