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View Diary: Books That Changed My Life--What Is Your Favorite Poem About Death? (94 comments)

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  •  From WWI, one for the ages (15+ / 0-)

    In Flanders fields the poppies blow
          Between the crosses, row on row,
       That mark our place; and in the sky
       The larks, still bravely singing, fly
    Scarce heard amid the guns below.

    We are the Dead. Short days ago
    We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
       Loved and were loved, and now we lie
             In Flanders fields.

    Take up our quarrel with the foe:
    To you from failing hands we throw
       The torch; be yours to hold it high.
       If ye break faith with us who die
    We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
             In Flanders fields.

    I think every school kid in Canada speaks this poem on November 11th every year. It sticks with you because it's written from the perspective of the dead.

    That one line, "To you from failing hands we throw the torch" always gives me the shivers.

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