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This poem was inspired by the 100 year Anniversary of the beginning of World War One. I wanted to capture the personal aspect - to bring back the humanity, reflecting on how the men who gave their lives had a childhood and a million memories and a place to call home that was brutally taken away from them.


Webcam_selfie_yoby Katharine Smith17 Nov 2014

When my name is read out above a sea of red
Know that
Although I’m a fraction of a figure
A line in a textbook written in the smallest font
I learned to ride my bike at age seven
And last rode it when I was seventeen
And proudly tied my laces at eight
Never thinking they’d turned into waterlogged boots
I swam the fastest in my class at age ten
The last water I saw bled into the mud
I met my best friend when I was thirteen
And would lose him two days before I lost myself
My first love was at sixteen
The recipient of the last letter I ever wrote
I remember the sun shining
The fragments of the sky
On the eve of my last day
Reminiscent of my father's painting
Beauty had no place in this crevice of the world
But I like to think I did