IT WASN’T ME, MISTER
Oh, Poppy, why did you have to land on me,
I’m against war, didn’t you hear my
plea,
especially wars that wouldn’t be good
for me,
yet here you are on my lapel
though I’m as radical as
hell,
you said I had to consider the
nation,
who would then put me on
probation,
which means I may not be able to have
my say,
though if I’d worn the white
poppy
I might look soppy
but militarism I wouldn’t have to
obey,
so, Poppy, please fly away.
Wilson John Haire.
