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Jan 2022 · 119
Okay/No I’m Not
Classy J Jan 2022
I’m so tired of saying I fine!
When that’s not how I feel inside.
Please don’t force me to lie.
Know that I’m trying.
Smiling yet feel like dying.
Don’t mind me.
It’s just the pain I be carrying.

Why can’t it be okay?
To not be okay?
Sun is shining,
Yet it feels like rain.
Why can’t it be okay?
To not be okay?
Flowers are blooming,
Yet all I see is decay.

Wish you didn’t have to see me like this,
I’m just thankful that it’s me and not you,
That’s going through this!
Wish you didn’t have to see me like this,
But I’m thankful you’re not the one,
Who fell into the abyss.

But don’t mind me.
I’m just tired of saying I’m fine.
When that’s not how I feel inside.
Please don’t force me to lie.
Know that I’m trying.
Smiling yet feel like dying.
Don’t mind me.
It’s just the pain I be carrying.

Why can’t it be okay?
To not be okay?
Sun is shining,
Yet it feels like rain.
Why can’t it be okay?
To not be okay?
Flowers are blooming,
Yet all I see is decay.

Faux pas, my bad, my fault.
Trying to be perfect, I’m not.
Heart gnaws, it aches, it stings like salt.
Shoulda kept it hidden, in a vault.
Curse words, traverse through my thoughts.
And they haunt.
I’m trapped, I’m caught.
Depressions at the door, didn’t even knock.
When will this nightmare finally stop?
Wondering how I can delete it?
Like ctrl alt.
So, I can live long and prosperous like Spock.

But don’t mind me.
I’m just tired of saying I’m fine.
When that’s not how I feel inside.
Please don’t force me to lie.
Know that I’m trying.
Smiling yet feel like dying.
Don’t mind me.
It’s just the pain I be carrying.

Why can’t it be okay?
To not be okay?
Sun is shining,
Yet it feels like rain.
Why can’t it be okay?
To not be okay?
Flowers are blooming,
Yet all I see is decay.
Jan 2022 · 136
What healing means
Classy J Jan 2022
Could paint a picture with words,
Writing verses yawl never heard.
Take some time to observe.
Cause you’ll never know what you’ll learn.
Whether yawl stay grounded like an ant,
Or soaring through the air like a bird.
Taking steps forward is like watering a plant.
In order to grow,
It’s not about where you’ve been,
But where you’re at.
And I ain’t gonna lie,
Sometimes you might hit a set back,
But as they say life ain’t always gift wrapped.
Got to know when to take a break, and have a Kit Kat.
For stress, anxiety and depression, will only leave you trapped.
In a cycle of been there, done that.
Which can become a toxic habitat.
And trust me when I say,
It’s really hard to overcome that.
Especially when ones mind has been highjacked.
By the words of others,
That can pin you down to the mat.
For the one, two, three.
Where is that referee?
That be trying to **** on me?
Like I’m Ted Dibiase!
But seriously,
How do we,
Start cleaning up the debris,
That is taking up free,
Space within our minds, thoughts and dreams?
Well the answer will differ for both you and me.
Depending on what healing means.
Jan 2022 · 142
Eeyore
Classy J Jan 2022
Depression is like a dark cloud to my Eeyore,
That takes away my joy,
Like it was a **** repossession.
And just like Thor,
For so long I felt unworthy,
But maybe I just gotta endure some hardships,
To receive eternal glory.
Like it states in verse 2 of second Timothy.
Been writing verses even before therapy sessions,
Where my pain turned to lessons,
And those lessons turned to weapons,
But what matters is how you invest them.
So, tell me…
Will you die stressing or digesting?
When faced with barriers, that block ones progression?
I remember how…
I used to think my scars lessened my value,
Yeah, I used think tears weakened my value,
Thinking I was unworthy of a breakthrough.
But sometimes you gotta enter forests,
And battle terrain to attain a mountain view.
Jan 2022 · 113
Next life
Classy J Jan 2022
Police fronting blue lives matter,
What are they some type of smurfs?
Treating minorities like they Gargamel,
Not even wizards yet we treated like a curse.
Can shoot us in the back, pretending all is well.
And go back home for some dessert.
Than the next day go to church,
To praise and yell.
Yet can’t hear us yelling for air,
When they knees on our necks,
What part of that is to serve and protect?
We are taught to respect authority,
Yet can’t keep in check?
But when power is left unchecked,
It becomes corrupt.
And for a department of corrections.
It certainly is anything but correct.
When they be jailing innocents,
Simply because their colour, makes them the usual suspect.
It shouldn’t be like this.
But in this world, the simple fact is.
That there ain’t no true justice.
For people like us.

But maybe in the next life!
Yeah maybe in the next life.
Things will be alright.
Things will be alright.
So, here’s to the next life.
Here’s to next life.

A life where I no longer worry,
About people following me,
In stores because their convinced,
Imma start stealing.
A life where I no longer worry,
About cooperating with my hands up,
Wondering if the officer is gonna shoot me.
In the back of my head than claim they did it defensively.
Getting away with ****** in the first degree.
And being able to come back home to their families.
Unlike the lost souls they took out discrliminintly.
I know that not all cops are bad,
However, they do have a gang like mentality.
By that I mean.
They defend each other’s actions even if they are guilty.
And justify it as loyalty.
I call it corruption and disgusting,
But maybe that’s just me?
And truthfully if good cops defend bad cops,
That makes them just as bad in my opinion G.
It’s like watching a bully continue to bully.
And not doing or saying something.

But maybe in the next life!
Yeah maybe in the next life.
Things will be alright.
Things will be alright.
So, here’s to the next life.
Here’s to next life.
Nov 2021 · 190
Resiliency
Classy J Nov 2021
Pass me that ****,
I don’t even smoke,
I just need me some hope,
Because I’m depressed,
Yet it’s treated as a joke.
Wondering when,
I’ll be like Georgie’s boat.
Cause I don’t know,
How much longer I can float?
But I’m trying my best,
To find ways to cope.
Even when I be,
Confusing my father with a ghost.
Who knew trauma,
Was like walking a tight rope!
And because I hate drama,
I follow my usual tropes.
By slipping away just like soap.
Never addressing the problems,
That has lead me down, these treacherous slopes.
Not sure where I’m supposed to go now.
All I know is that I’m going down.
And the inner walls, can’t protect me now.
With the bottled up emotions spilling out.
But unlike a Jordan Peele movie,
I don’t want this to Get Out.
Because it may damage the relationship,
That I’ve fought to have now.
However, my dads alcoholism is out of control now!
And I no longer feel safe within his home now.
It’s no wonder that my mental health is waning!
I suppose it’s crazy.
Wishing for a father that was healthy.
Such a sentimental fantasy.
When in actuality,
He blames my mother,
Even though he was the absentee.
And it was up to me,
To pick up the pieces,
Of my heart, that you left for me.
And growing up to be,
A man that you could never be.

Hook:
I’ve decided that, I won’t put up,
With the *******.
Of the narrow minded.
To high on their pulpit.
To see the trauma, I be trying to cope with.
(Yeah)

For I know my worth!
Cause imma resilient child,
That fought to live ever since birth.
An infant chiseled from earth,
Knowing that changes might hurt,
But if I never start.
I’ll never go,
For every high, there are lows.
Just how it goes.
That’s what I’m told.
Gotta be like Batman,
By being brave and bold.
In order to juxtapose,
Being exposed to the decomposed.
That life may hold.
Even if it might be,
A ******* lightning bolt.
Whatever the pain may be,
I’ll never give up hope.
Just got to reframe,
The toxins into antidotes.
Call that the anecdote,
Of these rhymes I done wrote.

Hook:
I’ve decided that, I won’t put up,
With the *******.
Of the narrow minded.
To high on their pulpit.
To see the trauma, I be trying to cope with.
(Yeah)
I won’t put up! No I won’t put up!
Nor will I give up! Never gonna give up!
Layed down too long,
And it’s about time I got up.
Been sleep walking too long,
So, it’s about time I woke up!
Nov 2021 · 131
In God We Trust
Classy J Nov 2021
Society is strung together,
Where violins can become violence.
So, if atoms transform at the molecular,
How do environments,
Transform humans into predators?
It’s as if they’ve been injected with a virus,
Constructed by Reaganomics,
Where many be…
Growing up without fathers,
While having a education system, with no reliance.
So, can’t be shocked by the defiance of a brother.
Raised by a single mother, who may be as loving as a giant.
By can’t save him when a police officer,
Shoots him dead for “apparent” non-compliance.
****.
It reminds me,
Of how they be defiling us,
Lines divide, while dead bodies become boundaries.
In the land of the free,
Where they forgot about us.
Except when we take a knee in solidarity.
Even though they may not be Indigenous.
Our lives matter *****!
You just mad because you can no longer **** with us!

In God we trust? (Yeah)
Are sure it’s not the Devil?
North America is built on lust,
And martyrs bones,
Don’t believe get a shovel!

In God we trust? (Yeah)
Are sure it’s not the Devil?
North America is built on lust,
And martyrs bones,
Don’t believe get a shovel!

Can’t believe I live in a society,
Where MMIW issues are treated with silence.
Where private property,
Was originally a luxury for settlers that betrayed us.
Like every other country now in poverty,
Just ask Africa or Mexico,
They’ll tell you it was no buenas.
Our economy is only in prosperity,
Because of actions that were truly heinous.
For minorities.
Because instead of promises,
We were sold lies,
While they were selling lives;
How advantageous.
Instead of promises,
Truth became compromised,
And colour became a crime,
Literally becoming worse than Judas!
Sending children off to slaughter schools,
And parents had no time to say goodbye.
Treating us worse than abused mules.
Watching as they milk these lands dry.
With one question left lingering…
As to Why?

In God we trust? (Yeah)
Are sure it’s not the Devil?
North America is built on lust,
And martyrs bones,
Don’t believe get a shovel!

In God we trust? (Yeah)
Are sure it’s not the Devil?
North America is built on lust,
And martyrs bones,
Don’t believe get a shovel!
Oct 2021 · 162
Everyone’s got demons.
Classy J Oct 2021
She got the where with all,
Which is good cause,
I’m in withdrawal.

The laws of attraction,
Can cause some tension,
When she is in love with me,
But I’m in love with alcohol.

Don’t know how it happened?
Mind over matter,
Until I’m met with Jacob’s ladder,
As the room spun, and my eyes blackened.

A darkness unlike any depression,
A bleakness likened to my inner weakness.
That reminds me,
Of a boy trapped inside a man’s body.
A boy who never grew up,
Like those in neverland.
A boy who wanted desperately to fly away,
Like Peter Pan.

These repressed memories,
That are usually drowned,
By the sounds of toxic dependence.
Are now rushing into the door,
Of my heart.
That I try my best to keep shut.
From the monsters that like to tear off.
Pieces of me, like I’m some injured animal.
That hardened me to the world,
That to me was a cannibal.
That eats innocents like me alive.
With no answers as to why?

So, than why should I remain sober?
Instead of continuing to be numb?
Aren’t we all pretenders?
Under the thumbs,
Of sweet surrender?

A surrender from our true selves.
Everyone is an actor,
In show and tell.
Wanting to be in the centre,
Of the spotlight.
Instead of the lingering,
In the shadows of hell.

Which got me wondering?
What demon your hiding from?
And what concoction you use,
To keep it at bay?
Oct 2021 · 142
What makes us different?
Classy J Oct 2021
Be careful of what seems innocent.
Small acts of hate unseen by the eye,
Acts that can snowball into larger threats.
When tears could fill rivers high.
For their stories are suppressed.
As they defy,
The socially constructed narrative.
Can’t even say goodbye.
As that, like everything is prohibited.

Only a small demographic,
Can experience democracy.
After all it’s a demo,
That you got to pay to win!
Oh, the hypocrisy.

What makes a difference?
Apparently it’s pigment.
And worth is not equivalence.
When people are forced into shipments.
Is that what they mean by deliverance?
Wish this was all a figment.
For I in sane consciousness.
Cannot believe it.
That we live in a world,
That murders the innocent.
And justifies it as omnipotence.
And anyone who says otherwise,
Is a heretic.

Only a small demographic,
Can experience democracy.
After all it’s a demo,
That you got to pay to win!
Oh, the hypocrisy.

What is freedom?
Well it’s certainly ain’t free.
So, does that make it dumb?
To get wood, you must cut down the tree.
And to make a new land and a hefty sum.
You must cut down the native and Métis.
Seems fair to me. (Sarcasm)
So, than what is equality?
When the quality of one is tarnished,
For the sake of supremacy?
If we are equal?
Why are there still those in need?
If we have freedom,
Than why do we still bleed?
And the innocents in jail aren’t free?
Why are there still cries from those like George Floyd,
Screaming that they just can’t breathe?
Tell me!
If we have democracy,
Why are they still sterilizing people who look like me?
Why is there still so much divide and animosity?
And I like some many others,
Have to face discrimination on the basis of our biology?
Tell me! I really want to know!

Why is it?…

Only a small demographic,
Can experience democracy?
Maybe it is,
A demo after all.
That you got to pay to win!
Oh, the hypocrisy.
Oct 2021 · 184
Hoodwinked
Classy J Oct 2021
Deceived cat,
That once was a thieving rat,
Who doesn’t have time for chit chat,
Where dreams are for aristocrats,
For they create the format.
That determines what is facts.
And the fact of the matter was,
He was a **** cat,
That was walked all over, like a doormat.
Don’t they see that it’s hard to be mortal,
When all ya see is combat?
Where violence becomes ones habitat.
So, to survive; better get a Gat.
Rat-ta-tat-tat.
Get put into a jail,
Otherwise known as a trap.
But it’s just,
Part of the intergenerational impact.
Where the only autographs,
Are evil contracts.
That take lives, land and fat stacks.
Leaving one stranded as outcasts.
It’s a wonder how one can last.
With such a gap that contrasts,
The disparity between race and class.

Can’t get no reprieve,
Systems got us on our knees,
Can’t get no reprieve,
Or time to breathe.

No siree!

Can’t get no reprieve,
Systems got us on our knees,
Can’t get no reprieve,
Or time to breathe.

No siree!

Going out like Kaepernick!
**** the established!
That be establishing,
Us as side chicks.
Like we something to **** with!
I don’t know about you?
But I refuse to submit.
This **** is ridiculous!
We are not instruments!
Bet your *** we mean business.
Ever since Genesis.
Where eating apples is sinfulness.
Because humans can’t help,
But to be like Icarus.
Inching closer to the precipice.
Where history becomes a Boulder,
And we become Sisyphus!
For we are refusing to notice the elephant.
Pretending it’s not relevant.
To the establishments.
Which is very negligent.
For it’s an important ingredient.
As they are the ones dealing out punishments.
Or immoral experiments.
To who they deem as deviant.

Can’t get no reprieve,
Systems got us on our knees,
Can’t get no reprieve,
Or time to breathe.

No siree!

Can’t get no reprieve,
Systems got us on our knees,
Can’t get no reprieve,
Or time to breathe.

No siree!
Oct 2021 · 181
Pride
Classy J Oct 2021
It’s laughable how mental these cubs,
Think they so admiral,
But even experts can be fallible.
Unaware how like metal,
When heat increases it can bend ones potential.
Wonder what will be the limit,
That boils over the kettle?
Everyone thinks they Mufasa,
Till ones scars, leaves them empty vessels.
For hot air can’t always push the needle.
And words without actions are plain out feeble.
Thinking your revolutionary like Nathan Hale,
But actually your more like Jack and Jill.
Thinking once you climb that hill,
You’ll find heaven, but end up falling to hell.
A juxtaposition between fairing well and farewell.
Didn’t anyone tell you?
That pride doesn’t end well?

Pride is a slippery slide.
That pulls ya in like a rip tide.
Kings fall thinking they God.
For all human beings are flawed.

Pride is a suicide.
Yet temps like a snakes eyes.
But don’t be deceived by the facade.
For devil horns pierce, like bullets from a firing squad.

Not everything can be Hakuna Matata,
When faced against an armada.
For goodness sakes,
With these hoodlum fakes,
Acting like they chupacabras.
Don’t make me laugh you tontas.
For most of yawl are suckas,
Falling for schemes like duck dodgers.
Trying to build a posse to get stronger,
But are really,
Gathering bodies just to dig graves,
Whose names are taken like slaves,
Subservient to their corporate masters.
Unaware that freedom,
Only comes to dumb rich *******.
That be,
Feasting on innocents like they Alucard.
Till the moneys gone.
And the damage cannot be undone.
After all…

Pride is a slippery slide.
That pulls ya in like a rip tide.
Kings fall thinking they God.
For all human beings are flawed.

Pride is a suicide.
Yet temps like a snakes eyes.
But don’t be deceived by the facade.
For devil horns pierce, like bullets from a firing squad.
Oct 2021 · 132
Somebody Else
Classy J Oct 2021
They say you can only trust yourself,
Grey strands brushed; underlying wealth,
Looking dismayed cause I don’t even love myself.
Woah.
Can’t I be somebody else?
If only hearts could melt,
As easily as ice.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
Now.
The only sound,
I fear is appreciation.
Because most don’t see the lust and fornication.
That lay beneath the lies,
That’s locked behind my eyes.
A painful desire,
That wants to climb higher.
Yet is never happy.
That’s wants more.
Yet is left always empty.
An identity,
That is clouded in mystery.
Chained to a shame,
That damns the brain.
Who thoughts can no longer contain,
The reigns.
Even the droplets from his eyes,
Are a desert that has forgotten rain.
Like a horse with no name,
It’s all apart of norms that mamed.
What constitutes being a man.
Who has ran,
From every problem.
Like it was the boogeyman.
****.
Can’t I be somebody else?
If only hearts could melt,
As easily as ice.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
He asks himself.
With thoughts that welt,
Like it was struck with a belt.
A pain that is unseen,
That has locked him up.
Way before quarantine.
They say no one can hear you scream,
In space.
Yet even on earth everyone ignores it.
For mental health is like a banana split.
Your treated like your banana’s,
And everybody splits. (Hahaha).
Like it’s some joke.
Until their bodies croak.
Because they lost their hope.
To be seen and heard.
Like the songs from a bird.
Yet are instead dismissed as diseases,
That need to be cured.
Oh, Man.
Can’t I be somebody else?
If only hearts could melt,
As easily as ice.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
Sep 2021 · 101
Story within the Eyes
Classy J Sep 2021
Dead eyes circumvent,
Red flags; hesitant.
Sad lies, love broken.
Can’t tell if I’m,
Loved or just a token.

Lying around,
Can’t sleep,
Gaining pounds,
Depressions deep.
Trying to float,
But starting to sink.

I know I need help,
But my trauma is like my fathers belt.
The only difference is,
Not all the scars show.
That’s just how it goes.
With my heart and my mind; juxtaposed!

Wondering if my words are as invisible,
As I feel.
Pop a pill,
So, I don’t have to feel, anymore.
I could be the richest man,
But still feel poor.
What is life for?
Got people wanting more,
Yet still feel empty to their core.

Don’t mind me,
I’m just lost in my head,
Rewinding tapes instead,
On working towards, Being Free.
Sep 2021 · 217
Capitol Kill
Classy J Sep 2021
Codes bode mechanical roles,
On human souls,
A road that promised rainbows,
And virtues that once showed,
A flow of dough,
That made social control,
More comfortable.
That was until,
Everything fell all to hell.
One by one like dominoes.
Poor little dolls.
Trying for survival.
Yet for yrs yawl been in denial.
So, forgive me if I,
Don’t care about tears from a crocodile.
That transformed beautiful lands,
To wastelands.
That set up rules that put vatos in jail.
Without fair trials.
As the poor become corpse piles.
A vile stench trails.
But will never be inhaled.
By those who prevail.
A statement that is like a nail.
Being put into a coffin.
Isn’t humanity something?
Instead of reflection,
Or reconciliation.
History becomes like young padawans,
Facing off against Anakin.
Where truth becomes fairytales,
From once upon.
A time where superior specimens.
Overcame the savage ones.

Wondering what hill I’ll die on,
Will I end up in hell or in Zion?
Sometimes I feel like a who,
Only heard by Horton.
And I ain’t talking about Tim.
For my people’s lands,
Have been invaded by zim.
Yet we are the ones treated as aliens.
And unlike like a roll up the rim.
There is no please play again.
****.
Never trust a clown,
Especially if they wear a crown,
Why stick with milk,
When you could have the cow.
Why share the land,
When you could steal the oil.
Set the hen house on fire,
And watch as things go afowl.
Wondering who’s next,
Better ask the owl.
As they can see the evil in the eel,
That try to distract people,
With their promises and ideals.
But actually bring woe.
They say you reap what you sow,
So, be careful what you grow.
For bitterness is like a poison pill.
That spoils our fill.
Teach a white man to fish,
And for generations blood will spill.
As a sour sorrow echoes through the ville.
But is quickly dismissed.
That makes one wish,
Our voices could be taken as serious as,
A siege on Capitol Hill.
Aug 2021 · 145
Snakes in the grass
Classy J Aug 2021
Born in a sinkhole,
Where money is made on petrol,
And geckos are plentiful,
So, best hope your names not geico.
This can truly be the life for…
Some.
Hold the beer, bring in the ***.
Thriving prostitution, right under God’s sun.
While the the streets flood with pollution,
Goodbye Captain Planet, end em with a gun.
A travesty that gets spun,
And put under the rug.
Along with other skeletons.
But as long as money flows,
The rich can keep eating beef Wellington.
Where most can’t dare to be themselves,
Like they May Sarton.
For those in poverty are deemed as burdens.
In a land of prosperity,
Yet got homeless people starving.
Sleeping.
In the streets,
If this land belongs to the meek,
Than why don’t they have a seat.
To the table?
Because those with privilege,
Are like Cain to their Abel,
Propaganda in tow,
Turning facts to fables.
It’s like Lao Tsu says:
Those who know do not speak.
And those who speak do not know.
So, how can we grow?
If we don’t water?
When friend turns to foe.
Where grass hides snakes and gaters.
If you want to find evil,
Follow the dough.
And if you want to find the traitor,
Look at who controls the labour.
Aug 2021 · 134
Biggest Fear
Classy J Aug 2021
What would you say is you’re biggest fear?

Well, like most people I have a fear of spiders and heights. But if we are talking beyond sensation or feelings. It gets a bit convoluted.

What do you mean by convoluted?

Well my biggest fear is something that has been confirmed over and over again. Something a lot of indigenous people or people of colour face each day.

And what would that be?

Not being listened to or believed when we speak out.

Have any examples of this?

Yes, many actually but I’ll only cover a few.
In the education field when teachers or kids verbally abuse or bully you. It’s usually your fault, after all as a person of colour we usually get treated as less than human. I had a teachers call me a ***** or that I’ll never amount to anything. That I’ll end up on the streets homeless begging for change. But do these teachers lose their jobs when I speak out. No, because it’s a savages word against some white privileged *****.

Another example is in the work field.
I’ve faced verbal and physical abuse. I would come home crying every day. So many times I just wanted to die. As I face racism, sexism, micro-aggressions but I needed money. And when I spoke up I got told to toughen up and be a man or worst of all to get over it. Did the people in positions of power get fired when I spoke up? Nope. Did I experience more discrimination. Absolutely. It got so bad I convinced myself that it’s just normal to be abused and that I deserved it.

In society we have talked about the atrocities that have happened due colonialism such as the sixties scoop and residential schools.

Even now as it’s being brought to life with all the unmarked graves. Many either still refuse to believe it or they try to justify it or they still say to get over it. These examples are only a few, and I hope one day not just me but other people of colour can actually be heard and believed. For the trauma isn’t going away anytime soon.

And it kinda coincides with this idea. This lie. That when I speak up or out against things that are wrong no one listens…
And when no one listens,
It’s like what’s the point you know?
Than the lie creeps in and says “too just shut up, keep quiet, and stay silent.”
And that’s my biggest fear, giving in to lies; to stay silent. To be too afraid of sharing my story, my perspectives and my truth. To give into pessimism, cynicism and fatalism.
Classy J Jul 2021
So, why do indigenous people talk about white privilege when they get everything for free?

Actually that’s a false statement. Natives do not get everything for free. Honestly I don’t know where that came from. So, depending on one’s treaty a indigenous person might get say hunting/fishing rights or medical coverage, etc. However, like I said it’s dependent on treaty so some may not have medical coverage or other sort of benefits if you can call them that. Now usually I also get asked about getting lots of money from the government or my band. Now I do get money from the government but it’s not hundreds or millions of dollars. I get one cent per year for being indigenous. The money I get from my band comes from the oil found on reserves. The band can decide how to use that money and sometimes decides to give out a percentage to each person with status for those applicable for it. Which when oil was booming sometimes could equal anywhere from $300-$500. However, recently in years that has dwindled to anywhere between nothing to if we are lucky $200 per years and if we are really lucky twice a year usually in summer and in the winter. The only other benefits I get is if I go to the reserve I can get smokes and gas for cheaper usually about 50% off give or take. That it. Not to mention the land the colonists gave us was seen to be the crappiest land there was with no real value. It wasn’t till later that many of the left over pieces of land just so happened to have a commodity that was really valuable; that being oil. They tried to ***** us out but creator had other plans!
Classy J Jul 2021
As an indigenous person what is one place you would avoid like the plague?

Easy hospitals. Hospitals are one of the most traditional in thinking. The doctor is the expert and any other person’s thoughts or opinions don’t matter. You get glared at all the time. Get sarcastic or passive aggressive answers to questions. The mood coming from hospitals towards indigenous people is get the **** out. You also get talked down to or doctors treat you like you have a disability or like your deaf. If you ever want to feel like not being welcomed somewhere go to a hospital. Also many hospitals in Canada have a very racist past. Like not letting indigenous people in especially if they are an injured homeless person. So many homeless indigenous people have frozen death outside hospitals because they refused to help them. Homeless indigenous people are also stereotyped as being drunk indians so that’s another reason they are refused entry into hospitals. By some miracle if they are allowed in they usually will die from injury because they won’t help them. Slowly dying for hours as others are helped before them all because of their skin colour. So, yeah not a big fan of hospitals. They probably have a indigenous body count as high as some residential schools.
Jul 2021 · 237
Growing up on the Rez
Classy J Jul 2021
Sleeping in a **** soaked mattress,
With sounds of gunshots,
That keep me up late.
Got me all depressed,
Wondering if I’m next to be popped in the chest.
But the question is…
Will it be by my own people?
Or by the cops?
Gang mentality is my ******* reality,
Every day comes with a new tragedy.
In slums called reservations,
Wishing I wasn’t Cree.
For all I see is starvation.
And my family,
The ones that are supposed to protect me.
Are out drinking.
Leaving me and siblings scrambling,
Looking for scraps in dumpsters.
And than at night we hide from monsters.
That try to sneak in our beds,
Having their way till our eyes bleed red.
Praying to God, that I’d drop dead.

Growing up on the Rez,
Where you can’t even trust your own friends.
Growing up in trauma,
Because society tried to have us cleansed.

Growing up on the Rez,
Unable to get ahead,
Growing up in trauma,
Confined and ensnared.

Some months I wonder where my parents went?
Probably on another ******.
Or maybe in they in jail or some AA centre.
Trying their hardest to forget.
Being ***** by nuns, priests, and teachers.
Maybe that explains my dads hot temper.
And starts to lose control a becomes an abuser.
Slamming my brothers and sisters, against  some phony happy family pictures.
And there’s no use going to hospital centres.
Cause they’d rather let you die, than help some prairie ******.
And maybe all this abuse,
Got me all confused, whether I like Peter’s or Beavers.
Which than leads to wondering,
If I’ve been cursed by the Creator.
Wondering when he’s going drop a crater,
On a this savage sinner.
And if that’s the case,
For my last dinner.
I’ll take some real genuine love, that can break the chains of being bitter.

Growing up on the Rez,
Where you can’t even trust your own friends.
Growing up in trauma,
Because society tried to have us cleansed.

Growing up on the Rez,
Unable to get ahead,
Growing up in trauma,
Confined and ensnared.
Jul 2021 · 771
Colonist Paradise
Classy J Jul 2021
As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
Seeing chalked outlines of brothers, I haven’t met,
Cause the cops been harassing and profiling so long,
People become desensitized, pretending nothings wrong.

Seeing so many innocent children that didn’t deserve it,
Have a hoodie in the store, you assume it’s a burglar,
You better watch your chatter, otherwise the gun gonna clatter.
Becoming just another body bag for another mother.
And the news may report it,
But the next day it won’t matter.

I really hate to alarm, but I’m fed up,
Some think it’s silly, saying **** it up.
The same fools that never experienced harm.
Assuming based on colour, that I must be armed.
So, they pull up on me like I’m a terrorist,
Which is pretty ******* racist,
No matter what way you measure it!
Having a knee on a neck,
Like they need a prayer addressed.
Yet they call my people violent.
Very ironic? Isn’t it?

Been spending most our lives,
Living in a colonist paradise,
Could hang as much ***** as you like,
Living in a colonist paradise.
We keep spending most our lives living in a colonist paradise,
Have many have to be sacrificed till we question this colonial paradise?

Look at the situation they got us facing,
We can’t live a normal life, we was taken from our land.
So, now we got to conform to new rules G,
Becoming puppets for the bourgeoisie.

I’m an educated savage with justice on my mind,
Got my Diploma in my hand and pride in my eyes,
I’m a rez’d out desperado, Cree that’s muy guapo.
And my patience is worn, so don’t provoke my fuego!

Fool, death ain’t nothing but are martyrdom away,
Just one spark away,
From lighting the fuse,
That will blow away.
The old narrow minded and rotten society.

Every child matters,
It’s pretty sad, that I even have to say that homie.

Been spending most our lives living in a colonist paradise,
Could slaughter as much children as you like,
As long as you say you’re doing it for your Christ.
We keep spending most our lives living in a colonist paradise,
Have many have to be sacrificed till we question this colonial paradise?

Power and the money, money and the power.
Promise after promise, liar after liar.
Everybody breathing, but half of them ain’t living.
It’s going on in our community, but nobody looking.

They say I gotta get over it, but nobody here see’s the trauma from it!
If they can’t understand it, how can reconciliation come out of it?
I guess they can't, I guess they won't
I guess they frontin', that's why I know my life is out of luck, fool!

Been spending most our lives living in a colonist paradise,
Could imprison as many asians as you like.
Living in a colonist paradise.
We keep spending most our lives living in a colonist paradise,
Have many have to be sacrificed till we question this colonial paradise?
Jul 2021 · 140
Dance with me
Classy J Jul 2021
I’ve been dreaming for some time.
Of fairies.
Soaring up high.
Brighting up the darkened sky.
And I can’t lie.
This feeling that stirs inside.
That some try to hide.
But I can’t let this moment die.
So, baby would you mind if I,
Take your hand in mine?

And come and dance with me?
Tonight.
Baby, won’t you dance with me?
Tonight.

I’ve been dreaming for some time.
Of butterflies.
And a smile as bright as the sunshine.
With eyes as blue as the sky.
Got me hypnotized.
Is this paradise?
I could fall asleep,
Right beside.
The one that I…
Love.

So,
Baby, come dance and with me.
Tonight.
Baby, won’t you dance with me?
Tonight.

Oh,
I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.

Take it slow, take it slow, take it slow, take it slow, alright?

I’ve been dreaming for some time.
Of canaries.
And those red lips as sweet as cherry pie.
Oh, my! Oh, my!
I can’t help but feel paralyzed.
Oh, why! Oh, why!
Does my heart feel so sky high?
So high, so high!
So, baby would you mind if I,
Take your hand in mine?

And come and dance with me?
Tonight.
Baby, won’t you dance with me?
Tonight.
Jun 2021 · 131
215
Classy J Jun 2021
215
Rose coloured lenses,
Unable to see the ***** dishes,
Woes numbered and buried under churches,
Along with many children,
Where some priests are like politicians,
Cause they both have become as crooked as magicians.
Claiming to bring wisdom,
But established a broken system,
Claiming to bring provisions,
That only brought forth extermination.
They promised a lovely mission,
That promised blessings.
But love had a stipulation,
One had to be cleansed of being a savage,
For you were viewed,
As a uncleaned heathen bandit,
That needs to be schooled,
And clothed in small pox blankets,
Where love can only be granted,
As long as you’re not a two-spirited ******,
Where love is granted,
But you got to wipe off your ***** faces.
That’s got me wondering?
What would happen if we switched places.
And put you on reservations.
With barely any rations.
I wonder what would be your reaction?
I guess that’s what some, call the age old question.
All I ask is for you to take a look in the mirror,
Before you start to preach.
About what you perceive to be impure,
Cause you can always go on a moonlight tour,
So, you can witness true despair,
As you get kicked out a police car door,
And slowly succumb to the cold blown air!
****!
You won’t like what you hear,
But you need listen to this…
If Jesus was here,
He wouldn’t stand for this.
Only the devil implements fear!
It feels like we’ve been given a Judas kiss!
You claim to be his messengers,
But last time I checked,
God does not approve of ****** predators.
Unable to see that you are polluting holy waters,
With a cultish fever,
Delivering the orders,
Set forth by the deceiver.
Jun 2021 · 6.5k
Loyalty
Classy J Jun 2021
Loyalty
They talk about loyalty,
Like it’s a fantasy,
They talk about loyalty,
But have no clue, what it means.

They talk about equality,
Like it’s currently happening,
They talk about democracy,
But have no clue, what it means.

Glocks aimed at cops,
Glocks aimed back at someone’s pop,
Many lives have been lost over Gaup.
Gaup that buys whips and thots.
All got something to prove,
But to who?
All got something to lose,
What will you choose?
If money equal power,
Than why is the taste so sour?
After all the castles and ivory towers.
You’re left a lonely dragon like bowser.
Loyalty tell me what it means to me?
To hang with royalty,
Or help those in poverty.
The place I used to be.
Helping people like me.
That society has coated with a cloak of invisibility.
Because they can’t stand minorities.
And that’s why we can’t stand authorities.
A toxic cycle that stems from a different ideology.
Instead of equality,
We have uniformity,
Instead of democracy,
We have white supremacy.
Instead of loyalty,
We have hypocrisy.

They talk about loyalty,
Like it’s a fantasy,
They talk about loyalty,
But have no clue, what it means.

They talk about equality,
Like it’s currently happening,
They talk about democracy,
But have no clue, what it means.


Too many broken promises,
I feel like James Sie,
Losing all his cabbages.
But since we are deemed as savages,
All the damages attributed,
Are treated as shenanigans,
Instead of answering calls to action,
We have a government completely dumbfounded.
Instead of compassion,
We are harassed and hounded.
We still got all lot of work to do.
And I hope one day we’ll have a breakthrough!
For we all got something to prove?
But to who? Maybe for me or for you!
All got something to lose,
If we never take the time to put on another’s shoe.
So, what will you choose?
Will you help light the fuse?
Or treat this issue like your alarm clock,
And put in on snooze?
Who will you be loyal to?
Your heart? Or to your privilege?
Hmm…

They talk about loyalty,
Like it’s a fantasy,
They talk about loyalty,
But have no clue, what it means.

They talk about equality,
Like it’s currently happening,
They talk about democracy,
But have no clue, what it means.
Jun 2021 · 349
Loyal to a Fault
Classy J Jun 2021
One of my greatest strengths and weaknesses,
Is loyalty.
I give exceedingly,
With all my heart.
And it breaks my heart when it isn’t recognized.
I love giving gifts even if I don’t have the money for it.
I love to lend my stuff because if they can enjoy it as well,
All the better.
I have a a strong passion,
With dreams and visions.
I’m starving to show you what I can do.
Even when I got nothing to prove.
Maybe I’m just proving it to myself,
When the lies of the devil starts like a tape recorder.

My biggest struggle is saying no,
Because I don’t want to let people down.
For I’ve been let down too many times.
I hate creating healthy boundaries,
Because it’s uncomfortable.
To upset someone you respect.
I hate to leave a toxic environment.
Because I’m a ride or die.
Even if I’m bleeding internally,
From all the verbal and physical abuse.
I convince myself it’s my fault.
Or too just **** it up.
Or that it’s just normal.
So, I quite my inner screams.
And fake a smile.
Because all my life society,
Has told me my voice doesn’t matter.
All my life I’ve been either treated as invisible or an inconvenience.
Just a savage that needs to get over it.
Even when the graves of 215 children are found at residential schools.
It’s gets justified.
But if I don’t stand up and say no more,
Who will?
I may be loyal to a fault,
But my heart can only be broken so much.
Till I find my power,
That was always there, and finally speak up!
Jun 2021 · 145
Perseverance
Classy J Jun 2021
They drag my name through mud,
Yet I Persevere!
They kick me while I’m down,
They spit on my body,
They call me names, bully and slander me.
Yet I Persevere!
They mock my heritage,
They think it’s funny to dress as me.
They abuse me in all four directions.
Yet I Persevere!
They **** my people,
They make sure we end up missing,
Than they tell me I’m next.
Yet I persevere!
They say I’ll never amount to anything,
They racially profile me,
Than they tell me to get over it,
Yet I Persevere.
I will always persevere,
No matter what you throw at me.
I will persevere!
Jun 2021 · 193
The Purge
Classy J Jun 2021
My words be plenty wise,
Yet people only wanna listen to garbage,
Like lil skies.
Afterall, the rap game has shown it hates logic.
Maybe I’d be rich,
If I bragged that I could have plenty wives.
Maybe you’d ******* listen,
If my words were sadistic like pennywise.
Maybe I’d be signed,
If I sold my soul to the demon goat with three eyes.
However, with fame comes leeches,
That tell pretty lies.
Getting hooked to the fiction,
Compromising morality to get between some thighs,
As well as wine and dined,
With bells come the whistles for the blind.
The frame of mind,
Through space and time,
Has begun to unwind,
With evolution on the decline.

What was once filled with clarity,
Is now filled with mumbling.
What once expressed challenging themes,
Now all sounds the same to me.
It’s so sad to see,
A Grammy list that nominated lil baby,
But not Denzel Curry, now that’s a tragedy.

I think I need to down me some communion wine,
Cause people have lost they minds,
Acting gangster but we know they lying,
Pulling a gunna out from behind,
Yet if caught, pull a 6ix9ine,
****, I swear music is confined,
Instead of bumping to Tech N9ne,
They pop lil xan’s while watching drumline,
Makes me wishing I could reincarnate as a slime,
Because it’s just so uninspiring,
Young wannabe thugs thinking they lions,
Are just lying to themselves,
Wanting be like ***,
But ending up a body full of gun shells,
POW POW POW POW,
Can’t you see the parallels?
Too busy believing in the fairytale,
Thinking ya can set sail,
Like a lil yachty boat,
But even the titanic thought it could float,
It’s funny that these SoundCloud rappers,
Think they the goat,
Trying so hard to attain some cloat,
By calling Eminem a joke.
But the only joke I see,
Is you folk.

What was once filled with clarity,
Is now filled with mumbling.
What once expressed challenging themes,
Now all sounds the same to me.
It’s so sad to see,
A Grammy list that nominated lil baby,
But not Denzel Curry, now that’s a tragedy.
Apr 2021 · 192
DOOM Patrol
Classy J Apr 2021
This the doom patrol,
If you know, you know.
Might be your friend,
Might be your foe.
It all depends,
Whether or not we,
Busting down your door!

It seems some things,
Don’t always add up.
Not even bugs bunny,
Knows what’s up doc.
Fiends distributing zyglon b,
In the hood through lean cups,
Think I’ve seen enough.
Every day another drive by,
Don’t be a wise guy,
Or you’ll end up a dead guy.
Just another food for fodder,
Capitalism at this point should be called,
Sergeant Slaughter.
Quick better hashtag that ****,
Thoughts and prayers without actions.
Can’t stop the madness.
Literally doing the white cops job for them,
Oh **** he went there,
I had to, because it’s still a ******* problem.
Life may not be fair,
But I refuse to be seen as a goblin.
That needs to be slain in order,
To maintain privilege and superiority.
But I refuse to be ashamed of being a minority.
Orderly, orderly we got a run away.
Better andale, andale,
I’m may not be a Mexican,
But I am treated like a chupacabra, ese.
I just don’t comprehende,
El gobeirno es muy demente.
Bunch of el pollo locos,
Puede chupar mi pene.
I’m a human ******* being,
That demands to be respected accordingly.
Before I shove my boot through you anally.

This the doom patrol,
If you know, you know.
Might be your friend,
Might be your foe.
It all depends,
Whether or not we,
Busting down your door!

Boy you mad bruh?
Of my gift of gab son?
Go buy yourself a ******.
Cause you be cramping,
My ******* style.
That is so versatile,
I’m like a ******* lyrical crocodile,
Just chomping at the bit,
Yawl ******* make sick,
If we cannot coexist,
Guess I got no choice,
But to bust out my extended clip,
As you already perceive me as violent,
Trying to keep me all quiet,
But my glock is the only thing,
That’ll ever be on silent!
For I’m ******* tired,
It’s about time we rewire,
This ******* system,
Where a division,
Based on racist traditions,
Either kills what they determine as problems,
Or just lock us up in prisons.
I said it once but imma say it again,
**** the system!
That looks at resistance as terrorism.
If only they’d listen,
To the wisdom,
Instead of tear gassing demonstrations.
Trying to ***** out the light,
To Doctor Kings dreams and visions.
But we won’t let that happen.
As long as we have the breath to keep fighting!

This the doom patrol,
If you know, you know.
Might be your friend,
Might be your foe.
It all depends,
Whether or not we,
Busting down your door!
Apr 2021 · 159
Edgar Greed
Classy J Apr 2021
Don’t be like Edgar Greed,
He’s what we call bad company,
He would stab his own family,
If it meant making money.

Don’t be like Edgar Greed,
He’s the type of phony,
That skips alimony,
Yeah the type that is all me,me,me.

They say loose lips sink ships,
Cement wrapped on the leg,
Swimming with the fish.
Cementing a trap for those that wag.
Their tails to save their skins.
In a bed filled with feds instead of fibs.
Woffing in a stench of pig on their lips.
Sweating like they had a surprise pop quiz,
Looking as if they awakened spiritually,
Mumbling words incoherently,
Got one wondering what gives.
It’s as if a wire is tied around their necks.
But in actuality that wire is on their chest.
Trying their best to catch,
Someone as they confess,
So that cops in bullet proof vests,
Can swoop in and everyone’s under arrest.
The type of people like Edgar Greed,
Who will do anything to try to remain free.
A snitch who acts like a G.
But is really a sheep that wears wolves clothing.

Don’t be like Edgar Greed,
He’s what we call bad company,
He would stab his own family,
If it meant making money.

Don’t be like Edgar Greed,
He’s the type of phony,
That skips alimony,
Yeah the type that is all me,me,me.

A Smaug *** *****,
That’s all about getting rich,
A person who wants to hit a home run dash,
But rather than working gets smashed,
Or Snorting so much coke,
Basically their whole life is a ******* joke.
It a wonder how this snitch can still sniff.
I wouldn’t be be surprised,
If kissing peoples *** was their favourite dish.
And If loose lip sink ships,
They’d be the ******* titanic.
Who pretends to be pragmatic,
When they are actually dogmatic,
Who wants it all but will end up like hamlet.
But don’t feel bad for fools like Edgar Greed,
For they are a type of being that deceives,
Whose schemes ream spleens,
People like that are like poisonous seeds,
That if not managed will turn to weeds,
That spreads a disease that’s feeds,
Off the incompetence of dweebs.
So...

Don’t be like Edgar Greed,
He’s what we call bad company,
He would stab his own family,
If it meant making money.

Don’t be like Edgar Greed,
He’s the type of phony,
That skips alimony,
Yeah the type that is all me,me,me.
Apr 2021 · 105
Man in the mirror
Classy J Apr 2021
Looking for reasons to not dread,
Got these demons in my head,
Can’t seem to get outta bed,
I may be alive but I feel so dead,
Guess I’m starving to be fed.
Wondering if could make amends.
With the man,
In the ******* mirror.

Just give up, just give up!
We both know you’re not enough!
Not enough!
No one will ever love you, ever love you!
Did you really think you could escape?
You can’t escape!
We both know that your a fake!
Just a hypocrite that hangs out with snakes!
Nothing more than a fat ****, you need to get in shape!
Maybe trying to live, was a mistake.
After all you’re a disgrace!
That’s why daddy went away!
****, why won’t this negative self-talk go away?
Can anyone else listening to this song relate?

This monster lingers deep inside,
Got nowhere I can hide,
Some days I can’t lie, I want to die.
For this monster lingers deep inside,
Got nowhere I can hide,
But because I’m a man I’m not allowed to cry.
And than people wonder why,
So many of us men commit suicide!
Yeah. I got this monster lingering deep inside!
Got nowhere I can hide,
I smile and say I’m okay,
But that’s a lie!
Wanting to reach out for help,
But than I’m stopped by pride.
****.

Looking for reasons to not dread,
Got these demons in my head,
Can’t seem to get outta bed,
I may be alive but I feel so dead,
Guess I’m starving to be fed.
Wondering if could make amends.
With the man,
In the ******* mirror.

Don’t give up, don’t give up!
You are worthy, you are loved!
You are loved.
You may not think it now,
But just know that you are enough!
We all make mistakes,
Don’t beat yourself up.
Don’t listen to lies that tell you,
That your not enough!
You are beautiful inside and out,
Don’t give in to your doubt.
Find a safe space to scream and shout!
Do some self-care, trust me it will help.
And when the monster tries to harm,
You’ll have the tools to persevere through the storm!

Pray the lord,
My soul to keep,
Heal me lord for I feel weak.
Help me rest for I cannot sleep.
And if I die before I wake,
Pray the lord my soul to take.
For I’m broken, weary, and I ache.
My wounds run deep, I need your grace.
For I can no longer bear all this weight.
Pray the lord,
My sins erased.
Lord whatever it takes,
To break free from these chains!
And make amends,
With the man!
In the ******* mirror!
Mar 2021 · 148
Reverie
Classy J Mar 2021
Unstructured fealty,
A tip toed fantasy,
Of uncultured humanity.
This is reality,
Where sugar plum fairies,
Only exist in dreams.
So, adrift it seems.
In myths and schemes.
In the midst of things.
That we truly believe,
Will make us happy.
But even with everything,
Why does the glass remain half empty?
Is life truly a tragedy?
A perfect ballet,
Where love is promised,
But death is the only thing that cometh.

You can perfect a plie,
But bend to addictions.
You can perfect a saute,
But jump to conclusions.
Indeed, life is a perfect ballet,
Where love is promised,
But death is the only thing that cometh.

Uncertain with deities.
After all, I might be an evolved manatee.
Or I might just be an anomaly.
Perhaps this is insanity.
Trapped in bodies,
Shamed depending on anatomy.
That’s determined randomly.
Not sure of what is or isn’t reality.
Spinning in circles,
Without stability.
Spinning in circles,
Bearing the weight of gravity.
A little dance I call depression and anxiety.
Taking substances to escape reality.
Going to a tip toed fantasy.
Filled with sugar plum fairies.
Just like in my dreams.
But dreams are brief,
Just like the substances.
Going back down a spiral of grief,
And a sense of emptiness.
Wondering where to find true happiness,
To be loved.
Man maybe life is a tragedy,
A perfect ballet,
Where love is promised,
But death is the only thing that cometh.

You can perfect a plie,
But bend to addictions.
You can perfect a saute,
But jump to conclusions.
Indeed, life is a perfect ballet,
Where love is promised,
But death is the only thing that cometh.
Feb 2021 · 185
Heart so Pure
Classy J Feb 2021
Trying to keep these emotions in check,
Instead of going for enemies necks,
Like a hyena on the defence,
I’m Stuck in a trance.
Trying to protect,
A heart so pure,
Yet also so insecure.

Why do I let it get to me?
Got me all chemically imbalanced,
Looking more of an *** than a donkey.
But, I’m ******* if I speak out or remain silent.
Trying not to step on glass,
Getting told I should be careful where I’m stepping.
For if I step on that glass,
I’m treated as defiant.
With my words becoming,
Nothing more than pseudoscience!
Perhaps I care too much?
After all society tells me to toughen up.
So, I build up these barriers.
But it’s never enough.
For my hearts still fragile.
Got me feeling like a bad child.
Fighting back against demons like I’m Madchild.
Got me wondering if trauma,
Truly can be reconciled?

For now though I’m just...
Trying to keep these emotions in check,
Instead of going for enemies necks,
Like a hyena on the defence,
I’m Stuck in a trance.
Trying to protect,
A heart so pure,
Yet also so insecure.
Feb 2021 · 233
Cuts
Classy J Feb 2021
The voices don’t turn off,
When I go to sleep,
Got me hearing them,
Every day of the week.

The voices don’t turn off,
When I go to sleep,
Got me hearing them,
Every day of the week

I personify my trauma,
Cuts on the wrist,
For a wish,
Just a wish,
That I didn’t look like this.
Cuts on the wrist,
For a wish,
Just a wish,
That I no longer felt like this!
Some say I need to stop the drama.
Treating my pain,
Like mathematics,
******* divisible.
Becoming invisible,
With my struggles treated as inhospitable.
Why do I gotta be treated as a criminal?
I’m just trying to speak out,
But yet you think I’m in it for attention.
Shoving pills down my throat,
Thinking that’ll cure the infection!
It’s no wonder that...

The voices don’t turn off,
When I go to sleep,
Got me hearing them,
Every day of the week.

The voices don’t turn off,
When I go to sleep,
Got me hearing them,
Every day of the week

Stuck in a toxic belief pattern,
With cuts on the wrist,
Cuts on the wrist,
Just for a wish,
Just for a wish,
That I didn’t look like this.
Got cuts on the wrist,
Just for a wish,
Just for a wish,
That I no longer felt like this!
Yet people say I chose this!
You think I’d choose this?
You think I’d choose to be beaten?
To be picked on?
You think I’d choose to have,
My father abandon me and my mother?
You think I choose to be abused?
To have teachers saying I’m worthless.
You think I’d choose this!
If you do you’re ******* stupid!
It’s no wonder that...

The voices don’t turn off,
When I go to sleep,
Got me hearing them,
Every day of the week.

The voices don’t turn off,
When I go to sleep,
Got me hearing them,
Every day of the week
Feb 2021 · 160
Downtrodden
Classy J Feb 2021
The beggars bend the knee,
To foolish dignity,
God will save the king.
But who will save the weak?
Who will save the weak!

Chains clatter along,
Jesters distract them all,
The mindless trot to song,
That is like a sweet wine; filled with lies.
Justice crucified.

Blood runs like a stream.
Cleansing everything.
Of supposed toxicity.
Got to look beyond the schemes.
Where the devil lurks beneath.

The beggars bend the knee,
To foolish dignity,
God will save the king.
But who will save the weak?
Who will save the weak!

Hunger pains the wolves.
Scrounging animals.
A desire unfulfilled.
No matter how much one kills.
Bodies are hollow shells.

The smell of rotting flesh.
That has befallen all,
Trapped within a hex,
That is comforting as is draining.
At the same time.

The beggars bend the knee,
To foolish dignity,
God will save the king.
But who will save the weak?
Who will save weak!
Jan 2021 · 138
Déjà Vu
Classy J Jan 2021
One of the greatest evils is big pharmacy,
Tons of minorities locked in jails for selling ****,
Sometimes getting life while rapists only get 2-4yrs...
****, that’s even too young for R Kelly.
Perhaps it’s just a pisstake?
Oh, **** I meant mistake.
Are we selling drugs to lawmakers?
Because I swear their brains are half-baked!
In a court of law,
Where one stands before God.
Yet man makes the judgement.
In a court of law,
Where one stands before God,
The same God your ancestors claimed they came with.
That left some in enslavement.
That left some in encampments.
That left behind a genocide,
That was justified as refinement.
A refinement that,
Took the land of others and made a profit.
A unearned profit that came from the blood and sweat,
Of those oppressed.
Yet many have the audacity to say get over it.
I wonder who truly has it easy?
I wonder who really gets the hand outs?
It’s definitely not the homeless.
Or the impoverished.

In God we trust,
Yet one’s nation is consumed by lust,
Treating money and *** as greater,
Than the God you claim you trust in?
In God we trust,
Whose God is that?
Mine or yours?

Perhaps the greatest evil truly is people?
For our human nature,
Keeps us from ever being truly equal.
With the change process becoming slower than a snail,
Have we truly hit the final nail?
In that coffin?
Still trying to spray perfume on what is rotten.
Is this all for not?
Stuck, and so caught up,
In a web of our own making?
Leaving a toxic cycle to keep on spinning,
All because of our pride,
Unable to control so we divide,
And than we conquer,
Watching as we **** each other,
Over wealth, land, religious beliefs and colour.
Jan 2021 · 133
Hope
Classy J Jan 2021
Silenced, prisoners of democracy.
The violence, that breeds disparity.
Words that poison all of humanity.
Hopeless, in the face of adversity.
Wondering what would it be like?
To be different.
Wondering what would it be like?
For humans to not be ignorant.
Trapped, wrapped in red tape.
Chained, handcuffed by snakes.
Identity forgotten with languages replaced.
Wondering what would it be like?
To work together instead of fight?
Wondering what would it be like?
If instead of focusing on the dark,
We’d focus towards the light?
To reach out for hope that is in our sights.
Breaking away from chains that took our might.
Tearing off the hateful words,
That has made us feel like *****.
Wondering what would it look like?
Once wrongs were made right.
Wondering what would it feel like?
To be accepted for what I look like.
Jan 2021 · 409
Misrelating Tale
Classy J Jan 2021
Misrelating Tale
Gotta prepare for war, like I’m Daniel-son.
Train every day with that wax-off, wax on.
Mister Miyagi flow, that hits like a Jeff Hardy Swanton Bomb.
What has the world become?
We unleashed the sword,
So, what was done can’t be undone.
But what if this narrative could be un -spun ?
Would we right wrongs?
If we rebuilt foundations,
Would our nation remain strong?
To return a triumphant king like Aragon,
Or be stabbed in the gut like qui-gon?
But as def squad says we’ll continue on till the break of dawn.
For this is the way of the mandolorian.
Some days one gotta switch sides,
From the autobots to deceptocons.
Fighting foodons, blasting brains like I’m jimmy neutron.
A Lightning nuisance, that’ll static shock the electrons.
That may interrupt ones...
Constant flow of info from dendrites to axons.
After the battle is won, grab some schezwan.
Project soul of foul human individual cretans.
Not everyone can be as polite, as the bear named Paddington.
Gotta call the ghostbusters to extract some Thetans.
Rest In Peace to Egon.
So...
When **** hit the fan, gotta know how to swim in the deep end.
Treating each failure like it was a lesson.
Everyday I battle against anxiety and depression.
Let’s just say I know what’s it’s like to feel less than.
Got my heart crushed like some croutons.
And have had to attack on my inner Titans.
And just when you think I’m defeated,
I go super saiyan.
Schooling it like I’m Piccolo and it’s Gohan.
Let’s go son!
I Will never lose my head like a dullahan.
For I ain’t got not time for 99 problems.
Gotta open the third eye to see past illusions.
Got to change the qualities of the composition.
Keeping stressors relatively small no matter the opposition.
Gotta emphasize the light like you painting an impression.
On everything and everyone that may come along.
A perspective can turn curses to blessings.
Can take one’s trauma and use it as a weapon.
To change the cycle of ones disposition.
But that being said,
One can’t predict everything like the Simpsons.
For the world’s more controversial,
Than the ending of the Jefferson’s.
Jan 2021 · 154
Fatal Gates
Classy J Jan 2021
When good faces evil,
You get one intense battle,
Eyelids trace intents of cattle,
Placing weighted content that’ll,
Shift resilience towards the peaceful or deceitful.
It all depends on the type of people,
That contends genetic designs of primal,
Adrenal glands that defend against the lethal.
That could stem back when our moms had labour.
And whether or not they harboured,
Alcohol, drugs or other stressful factors.
That can affects the hand one has like a game of poker.
That can become dreadful detractors,
For children once they grow older.

As one wanders closer,
One has to wonder,
What fatal gates await,
Will they reach Aslan’s place,
Or end up in motel Bates?

Who decides good and evil?
A gang in the hood is stable,
Until police are dispersed from the snitching of a weasel.
A burst of betrayal that leaves brothers in jail.
Got the weasel on the run, alliances have sailed.
Trying to find ways to cut off their rat tails.
Getting a witness protection detail.
So, I ask you is that good or evil?
I guess it depends on perspective.
Is it wrong to survive by being deceptive?
Doesn’t everyone have a selfish incentive?
That drives them towards their objectives?
Or is nature or nurture that determines genetics?
What if you committed a crime,
Because of being neglected.
Products of environment,
With freedoms unprotected.
Is it their fault or societies fault?
I guess it depends on your perspective.
So...

As one wanders closer,
One has to wonder,
What fatal gates await,
Will they reach Aslan’s place,
Or end up in motel Bates?
Jan 2021 · 130
Moon (Mood)
Classy J Jan 2021
As each lunar cycle turns,
And the full moon appears,
An ingrained fear draws near,
For the moon affects the waves,
And humans are made of 60% water.
So, it stands to reason that it affects how we behave.
Piercing hands of demons creates wolfish knaves.
A slave to a phenomenon that leaves some depraved.
Time to get some meditation son.
In order to be saved,
From that primal nature, that turns us into simpletons.
Got to maintain some discipline,
In our own personal synagogues,
Or just exercise to attain some serotonin,
Got to rise up to the occasion like a totem,
Creating shenanigans like Pippin.
Got to enjoy each moment,
The skies like a membrane component,
With wind flowing like verses from a poet.

This is the Moon mood,
That fools won’t tell you,
Got to find the tools.
To discover what is true.
Like you Blues clues.

This is the Moon mood,
That fools won’t tell you,
Got to find the tools.
To discover what is true.
Like you Blues clues.

As the lunar cycle turns,
The nocturnal beast yearns,
A carnal desire that starts to stir,
So, ya best be ready for some super *****.
For I’m in a mood like a typhoon,
Imma bout to consume,
You in the bedroom,
Don’t need no costume,
Give ya a gorilla press slam,
Like I’m Gorilla Monsoon.
Cause I ain’t no boon,
I’m dripping in doubloons,
Ready to explore her tomb.
That why my girls so good,
At shining my harpoon.
Got me wanting to finish her,
Call me Ed Boon.
Blame it on the moon.

This is the Moon mood,
That fools won’t tell you,
Got to find the tools.
To discover what is true.
Like you Blues clues.

This is the Moon mood,
That fools won’t tell you,
Got to find the tools.
To discover what is true.
Like you Blues clues.
Jan 2021 · 201
Imbued Deli
Classy J Jan 2021
As soon as I talk about ***,
They slap a label of explicitly,
Yet *** is a natural beauty,
That has been distorted as raunchy,
A taboo subject that is nasty,
Yet has created you and me.
So, sorry not sorry.
Imma discuss about it G.
So, check it.
My girl wetter than a tsunami,
Wanting my pastrami,
Which works for me,
Because I’m hungry for her cookie,
So, ***** where *** and food,
Becomes a imbued deli.
Carnal creatures popping off their cherries.
******* on my jerky like it was bubble tea.
As I’m munching on her nectarine.
A embrace more savoury,
Than a crispy cream.
Taking it to the shower,
Because I like it when her buns are steamed.
I treat my girl like a Queen,
She is more than her body.
I know saying this, isn’t mainstream.
But it’s important to dig in to it,
Like it’s a bowl of vermicelli.
My girls compassion is sweeter than ice cream.
And her laugh bounces like jelly.
She is a powerful force that some men might find scary.
But I personally find it ****,
Because she completes me.
Where I lack she helps me.
When I cry she comforts me.
The only one who understands the real me.
She imbues the deli of my soul,
And keeps me grounded like gravity.
Jan 2021 · 463
Gink Raid
Classy J Jan 2021
Peace to sensei,
Coming to you live through airwaves,
As I wack off to ******,
Going on my own personal crusade,
Breaking walls like a man made out of Kool-Aid,
Like Muhammad Ali my flow is like a butterfly,
A war torn zealot that delivers like a pizza guy,
That thinks of your girl while he cream-pies.
Hahaha
Going in like it’s D-Day,
Call it a Gink Raid,
Hit em with a AK,
Shoot em down easier than slippy,
Slice a ****** up like it’s child’s play,
Call me a real killer like Chucky,
Hear the sirens Blair,
Oh **** gotta find a getaway.
Faster than a red hot chilli pepper,
To the cops displeasure.
Going underground like I’m master splinter,
Relaxing, steaming hams like Skinner,
Until I come up with a new plan,
That is truly evil like Mr.Sinister.
That would make a metal man,
Like Victor Vaughn approve of her.

This is a Gink Raid,
Carpe Diem,
Seize the Day,
Where human nature is displayed.

This is a Gink Raid,
A death parade,
A unpinned grenade,
Where human nature is displayed.

Times ticking closer to Doomsday.
Everyone always acts tough till it’s judgement day.
Crimes picking up, got things going sideways.
Rick Grime surviving bundles of zombies.
Simon says we better run away.
Shame gambling doesn’t pay.
Never know what lies in bouquets.
Semi-automatic bullets dance like ballets.
Piercing through flesh of desired prey.
That fall gently like flowers on summers day.
Death, an embrace none can escape.
No time for breath, when faced with fate.
Can’t hit the breaks.  
When rates have high stakes.
It’s war time, where peace comes from hate.
That takes lives for humanities sake.
A foolish pride, that existed since we were primates.
A sacrifice of blood, for a slice of cake.
That hooked crooks like bait.
Adversity is something we create.
Internally; suffocating us like restraints.
That keeps us in a sheepish state.
That innately generates,
A division of race that isolates,
A segregation which discriminates,
That dictates which traits.
Are more dominantly quaint.
That got us repeating history that betrays.
For...

This is a Gink Raid,
Carpe Diem,
Seize the Day,
Where human nature is displayed.

This is a Gink Raid,
A death parade,
A unpinned grenade,
Where human nature is displayed.
Jan 2021 · 130
Master Zev
Classy J Jan 2021
These are the laws of the wild,
A corporate claw that defiles,
Heavens sacred isle,
Cursed to a birth,
Assigned soul sent to earth,
Where it’s all matter of survival.
And once we die, we’re returned to dirt.
But while some sulk in denial,
Others get to work.
Building foundations to gain perks.
Evolving to a state that reasserts.
A need to control other folks.
Into hierarchical jokes,
That turns hopes to a hoax.
Where freedoms are revoked.
And it would take different strokes,
To not just evoke but promote,
Voices that used to be chocked.(18)

To become a master,
Of your inner monster,
Fighting to not be censored,
And not being ****** as a cancer.
Needing to know when to strike the hammer.
For untamed anger,
Leads to disaster.
That tampers one’s honour.
Instead of fostering composure,
Your creating battlefields for soldiers.
To become a master,
One must use love to conquer,
I know it may seem bonkers,
But to prosper,
One must alter,
The very fibres,
Of society that cause people to suffer.
To be a master,
You must recognize you are stronger,
Than your oppressor,
Got to weather the storm,
Don’t conform to the pressure.
Beware of what appears to be nectar.
For it can actually be a poisoned fuelled sceptre.
Never let yourself believe that you’re lesser,
If you do you might as dress up like a jester,
That mocks the very sacrifices of ones ancestors.
And always remember,
What it takes to be a master.
Jan 2021 · 250
Vaudevillian
Classy J Jan 2021
Rap game is a glass ceiling,
Shucky ducky quack quack,
Lame ***** reeling,
Over oldies and throwbacks.
Imitating vaudevillians,
Because originality has flattened,
Such simpletons,
More useless than pions,
Lacking the accuracy,
Of a destructo-disc thrown by Krillin.
Tacky ducks more quack than Daffy.
Quirky queens more dunce than Daphne.
The mystery is in the ink that separates,
The Shaggy’s from the prodigies.
Could stab a friend in the back,
For snacks like ******.
Not much of a strategy.
It’s like your trying to intentionally,
Upset a Wookie.
Maybe your just tone deaf,
Like Eminem referencing the dougie,
Or make dad jokes more horrific than Chucky.
Get it?
Because chucky is a horror movie?
Why aren’t you laughing?

Rap game is a glass ceiling,
Shucky ducky quack quack,
Lame ***** reeling,
Over oldies and throwbacks.
Ll cool j don’t call it a comeback,
Slavery of the masses,
Taking Prozac,
To combat malpractice,
Depression a felon inside and outside,
Laws becoming lawless and unbalanced,
Innocents committing suicide,
Because the powerful are careless,
These ******* should be embarrassed,
That their privileged ***,
Can fake smiles enough to win Emmy’s
Minds material madness.
Gotta mind your true enemy.
Instead of being consumed by fadness.
Losing ones humanity,
To become the next Ken or Barbie.
But you too bad and boujee,
A hollow shell stuck in comatose,
Consumed by the sea,
Set up to fall like dominos,
Thinking you free,
But can’t see,
As the crows grow,
Bundled in circles,
As your drowning,
In asbestos,
For every pro there are cons that lurk in the shadows.
In honour of the late great MF DOOM
Dec 2020 · 104
Be A Man
Classy J Dec 2020
What the **** do I gotta do to be a man?
Be a man!
Do I fight in the war?
Enlist with Uncle Sam?  
What the **** do I gotta do to be a man?
Be a man!
What if my perspective of a man is prancing around in tights like I’m Peter Pan?
Tell me how the **** I become a man?
Become a man!
Do I have to become buff, or start fighting bad guys like I’m superman?
Perhaps I’d know if I had a dad.
Had a dad.
****.

J Cole was right when he said,
There are no ******* role models,
Afterall as a kid I inbottled.
All my emotions,
Fighting an internal battle,
Not wanting to just go with the motions.
For that would just make me cattle,
To a collateral revulsion.
Betraying my morals for a castle.
That is made of glass and delusions.
Becoming ignorant to that fact that I’m broken.
Growing up watching,
Television shows of action heroes,
Thinking that was the solution.
For what it meant to be a man.
Yeah, I was...
Growing up watching mad men,
Treat women as a sort of exhibition,
An object or a trophy, to be winning.
With the main goal to get one ***** in,
As many women,
In order to be claiming,
The title of stud that is above all other men.
Good thing I was raised by my mom,
Who taught me that-that was the thinking of villains.
And not a true depiction,
Of what a true man should be.
But if that’s that the case,
Then tell me how a man should be?
How a man should be?

Cause right now I’m still wondering?
What the **** do I gotta do to be a man?
Be a man!
Do I fight in the war?
Enlist with Uncle Sam?  
What the **** do I gotta do to be a man?
Be a man!
What if my perspective of a man is prancing around in tights like I’m Peter Pan?
Tell me how the **** do I become a man?
Become a man!
Do I have to become buff, or start fighting bad guys like I’m superman?
Perhaps I’d know if I had a dad.
Had a dad.
****.

If I were gay,
Would that be okay?
If I were queer,
Would you treat me weird?
If I were Trans,
Would we still be friends?
Would I still be a man?
Or would I be seen as a problem?
Why do these norms,
Have to create storms?
Struggling with identity,
And the pressure to conform.
Pressure to conform.
Some days I wish I wasn’t born.
For I feel torn,
It’s like I’m at war
Stretched to limit,
With a whimper replacing a lions roar.
How man minutes?
Will it take to unlearn not to be a monster?
At least my father,
Taught me one good thing.
And that is not to be like him when I get older!
When I get older.
Perhaps that is the only answer.

For how the **** I become a man.
Become a man.
I create my own destiny,
**** the patriarchy.
It’s time to take a stand.
Take a stand.
To be a man,
We need to speak up,
To showcase our emotions,
To listen and educate ourselves,
To understand the problem,
We need to address it.
This how the **** I become a man,
Become a man.
By creating my own destiny,
**** the patriarchy.
It’s time to take a stand!
Take a stand.
This how the ******* become a man!
Dec 2020 · 112
Popping off that Mary
Classy J Dec 2020
Alright,
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
I be on some dope ****.
Swimming in a pool full of roaches.
That way I don’t have to worry about lunches.
Web MD my diagnosis.
Losing touch of reality, got the psychosis.
Some think I’m precocious.
Bunch of snowflakes stooges.
Who have worse hair cuts than Brutus.
Imma hit em with a 450 splash, psicosis!
For this is where the juice is.
Yeah, I ain’t take no losses.
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
I just might be the wokest.
While others try to be racist,
Calling me Pocahontas.
Imma knock em down like I’m locksmith.
It’ll be like a mortal Kombat victory, completely Flawless.
To be honest,
That is why I avoid those who are toxic,
Who haven’t a conscious,
So, to me their quips are nonsense.
It’s simply quite atrocious,
Afterall, it probably stems from them being jealous.
So, why should I let it hinder my balance?
Or roll with the punches?
As far as I’m concerned,
Haters can **** my phallus.
Dec 2020 · 112
Just another statistic
Classy J Dec 2020
Gotta get outta this negative mindset,
That got me wanting to try for the lotta,
Because it’s seems more realistic.
Yet ironically leaves me ending up as,
Just another statistic.

For my heart is like a piñata,
With my soul becoming as deserted as Nevada.
Downing down the bottle.
Smoking some marijuana.
In hopes for finding nirvana.
For right now, I feel more destroyed than Gomorrah and *****,
But perhaps that’s what I get for becoming a dragon,
Isolating and pushing away anyone,
Believing that I’m someone,
That deserves loving.
But to protect myself,
I end up starving.
For I’m Scared to heal what’s broken.
Got given opportunities, but instead of accepting what others were giving.
I went Trailing down a path of self destruction.
For the words of the past are still afflicting.
Got my mind believing the affliction of their poison.
Thinking I always have something to be proving.
Diving into the dens of lions,
Getting involved with vermin.
That ended with me in a prison.
However, my mind was in prison way before then.

Gotta get outta this negative mindset,
That got me wanting to try for the lotta,
Because it’s more realistic.
Yet ironically leaves me ending up as,
Just another statistic.
Dec 2020 · 100
Rip off the Band-Aid
Classy J Dec 2020
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.
Dec 2020 · 85
Colourful Lust
Classy J Dec 2020
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?
Dec 2020 · 73
Penance
Classy J Dec 2020
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.
Dec 2020 · 121
Perfume for Corpses
Classy J Dec 2020
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.
Nov 2020 · 98
Lip Service
Classy J Nov 2020
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?
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