Tulips are Forgotten

Two tulips in a field amidst a strong gale,
of bugles and horns-

Shelter its petals from the breeze,
the sound of air raids-

The wind grows stronger,
the sound of thuds-

The tulips wear a crimson dress,
as he stares-

The sound of boots thudding,
thud, thud, thud-

And more thudding without looking,
the tulips are crushed-

One remaining petal still coated in red,
looks at her loss-

Millions of petals saturate the field,
the sound stops-

The stampede moves elsewhere to sing,
more tulips await-

The petals form a new field,
of pink not white-

The field will now be forever tainted,
what happened that night-

A father should not hold his son,
lifeless and gone-

But tulips are just a casualty of war,
no boundaries are drawn.