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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420258" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Poppy Seller</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420258" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The poppy seller stands near the Rotunda.<br>He vends his paper flowers as before.<br>He wears a small red poppy in Remembrance<br>of heroes fallen in our nation’s wars. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420258" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>The people pass as if he’s’ non existent, <br>more interested to buy well watered beer.<br>The Veteran feels the sting of their indifference-<br>Upon his grizzled cheek I spy a tear.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420258" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>I cannot, will not also pass in silence<br>I stop and donate something at his stall<br>He stammers thanks, but he needn’t thank me-<br>more fitting that I thank those who gave all.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420258" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>They who owed us nothing gave us everything.<br>We, their debtors, balk to pay our share.<br>And still the poppy flourishes in Burgundy, <br>past living memory, as a wordless prayer..</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=John+F.+McCullagh">John F. McCullagh</a></strong></div>

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