It’s time to rip off the band-aid,
And explore possibilities.
The destination doesn’t matter.
What’s fun is the mystery.

It’s time to rip off the band-aid.
And dance like no one is watching.
Who cares what others think.
As long as you are having fun.
Your moment has just begun.

It’s time to rip off the band-aid.
And paint that blank canvas.
With a parade of colours.
That could cover all of Kansas.

It’s time to rip off the band-aid.
Take that leap of faith.
Don’t wait till some day.
For tomorrow could bring death.
So, go and do it.
Before you regret it.

In morning dew, the world delights in colour.
With greenish meadows,
And white clouds that blankets blue skies.
Where flowers blossom with reds, yellows and purples.
With red robins fluttering and chirping.
Till dusk turns to dawn.
And owls awaken.
When camouflaged snakes slither and hiss.
And wolfs howl at the moon.
When mice scatter trying not make a clatter.
The night tells a different story.
One of survival.
At least for animals.
For human however it is a different endeavour.
While some slumber others gamble.
Spending coin to enjoy a chance at happiness.
For mornings aren’t always seen as a happy time,
Where responsibilities take over,
And no time to party.
Or have time to relax.
Either way it’s poison.
So, might as well take the chance.
That some see as lust.
While others see it as a life free from stress.
After all isn’t money the measurement of success?

Struggling with love,
As I fumble through it,
Not fully sure if there is a man above.
But I’ll get through it.

Father was all out of love,
But I grew accustomed to it,
Was caged like a dove,
Till I broke through it.
Shattered the glass ceiling,
Because I said ***** it.
My heart was reeling,
Got married then divorced before I knew it.
Wish I could leave it all behind,
But my trauma keeps me stuck in it.
Sometimes I wish I could rewind,
The time my heart took leadership from my mind.
For I always was chasing love because I never had it,
Thought I found the perfect magician but now all I’m left with is a rabbit.
With negative self talk becoming a habit.
If looking for love was a drug,
I’d be a crack addict.
For my self-worth was mugged,
Got my swerving into oncoming traffic.
At least then my death could be like my birth; ******* tragic.

For I’m...
Struggling with love,
As I fumble through it,
Not fully sure if there is a man above.
But I’ll get through it.

Maybe I just lost sight,
But if I enter church will God Smite?
Like that rabbit, I’ve been camouflaged my whole life,
Running away from danger, because I was too afraid to fight.
While chasing after carrots without any hindsight.
Heading right into a trap, perhaps I’m my own biggest plight?
Lying to myself and others by saying I’m alright.
Yet wishing I could go plus ultra like All Might.
For I’m feeling so powerless,
Filled with cowardice,
Living in a world so colourless,
It just feels like I was hit with a Judas kiss,
****, but I guess that just my penance.
Used to be the king of my tower,
But as the clock hits the final hour,
The people I used to step on like flowers,
Turn to lions that devour.
****, but I guess that just my penance.

Maybe that why I’m...

Struggling with love,
As I fumble through it,
Not fully sure if there is a man above.
But I’ll get through it.

You can’t bejewel my mood,
Or glitter bomb my experience.
For my inner darkness consumes,
That turns love to violence.

You can’t wash away what’s permanent,
Or paint over to hide the cracks,
For my temperament reacts,
Like some uncontrollable experiment.

You can’t fix what you can’t see is broken,
Or use glue or tape to build a foundation,
For my trauma corrodes,
The attempts towards betterment.

You can make a diamond from coal.
Only if it can handle the pressure.
But my hearts already been crushed,
Becoming nothing more than sediment.

The governments promises,
Are nothing more than lip service,
Trying to fix corpses with bandages,
Yet although nothing changes,
Why do citizens still give em roses?
As if they are in hypnosis?
And If they are it may explain the psychosis.
For electing a drama teacher that’s lawless.
The idiotic nature of this,
Is simply flawless.
Really can Canadians be more thoughtless?
Voting in Castro Junior,
How scandalous.
Let me guess the SNC-Lavalin affair,
Was nothing more than an entanglement?
And the WE charity was just an accident,
Or doing black face was supposed to be a compliment.
Let me guess you must also think,
Canada being trillions of dollars in debt is an accomplishment.
Or that firing Jody Wilson-Raybould is just apart of progress?

Depression is an emptiness that could never be filled.
Regardless of the cash, drugs, hoes, or food one tries to fill it with.
Depression is like drowning in the ocean.
With no one around to pull you up.
Depression makes normal tasks a chore.
Like smiling or getting out of bed for instance.
Depression is a broken heart that has been filled with betrayal, abandonment, and hate instead of love.
And just like Humpty Dumpty who knows when it’ll get put together again.
Depression can bring impulses to jump in front of cars or jump off bridges.
Depression is sadness that cannot always be expressed by tears.
Depression if not treated can lead to bad coping mechanisms to deal with it.
Depression doesn’t discriminate.
Depression is a wilderness.
Not sure which way to go.
With everything becoming treacherous.
Depression is like being on a tight rope.
Sometimes it can be hard to focus on the task at hand.
For fear can start to consume one’s soul.
Wondering if we fall,
Can we muster the strength to get back up?
Or plummet to their doom?

If I was white,
Would they believe me?
If I was white,
Would they finally see me?

When I was abused,
Would I have gotten help?
Instead of being refused,
They would’ve checked for the welts.
When I’d go shopping,
I wouldn’t worry about security flocking,
Checking on me, thinking I’m stealing.
Wondering when they’ll be kneeling,
On my throat, unable to keep breathing.
Becoming the next George Floyd.
But being native, it probably won’t be in the tabloids.
Oh ****, Canada may become annoyed.
Get over it, no longer will we be trapped in your void.
Our voices will be heard,
No longer will we be ignored.
So, if I got to stir some pots,
They’ll be stirred.
You may think it’s chaos,
But like they say, you live and die by the sword.

But...
If I was white,
Would they believe me?
If I was white,
Would they finally see me?

If I went missing,
Would they actually try to find me?
If I became homeless,
Would they actually lend me money?
Well they probably would if I were white,
Or if I was actually seen as a human with basic civil rights.
But sadly I’m native,
Someone that is seen as an inconvenient plight.
After 500 years you’d think, we wouldn’t continue being treated like parasites?
But if I was a foster child,
Would I be adopted?
If I was being threatened,
Would I be Protected?
Well they probably would if I were white,
Or if I was actually seen as a human with basic civil rights.
But sadly I’m native,
Someone that is seen as an inconvenient plight.
After 500 years you’d think, we wouldn’t continue being treated like parasites?

But...
If I was white,
Would they believe me?
If I was white,
Would they finally see me?