From Canada with Love

When it’s too inconvenient to fight for your liberties,

You leave the door wide open to usher in tyranny.

Suddenly, standing up for your rights becomes blasphemy,

The writing on the wall is just another conspiracy.

You look around and wonder how people can stomach the injustice,

And watch their country turn into a hospice.

They’ve all become accomplices and political sado-masochists.

These supposed lands of the free aren’t always what they seem.

At least not anymore because the only place you’ll find freedom

Is in the pages of a historical anthology.

To be or not to be — here? It’s a social dichotomy

When people only strive for comfort and apologies.

How did we fall so far from where we first started?

We live our lives as if we’re already the dearly departed.

We need a lifeline but there’s no one left to save us.

All the peacemakers got tired of being called radicals and left

On the last bus.

A note

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This spilled out in the wee hours of the morning after a particularly trying evening the previous day. Didn’t feel like editing. I usually don’t rhyme but here we are…