Ode to Kanata
Summit day, I see you there
Head hung low, eyes cast down,
Sporting the same look of despair
Your name, to all is but a pronoun.
The hero speaks, head held high
There he goes, rambling,
"…Manifest Destiny!" you start to scowl,
Twins, you both, features imply,
Under his shadow, mumbling,
Yet beneath the dark, faint glow, a soul.
The room next door, through thin walls,
The upbeat shrill calls out a "ciao!"
The thump of footsteps, he runs, then falls
No pain, no game, he stands, then bows
His love of pasta pronouncing loud,
Glares narrow down, intensified.
"Now back on track." they talk of felonies.
The tension of the room now plowed,
The seven fail to see, yet stay allied.
The eighth, however, unseen to their eyes.
You've given up? Without a fight?
Of course, forgotten, the peaceful nation,
Fought through sovereignty, and the like
And the wars, guarded them with stations,
Your own identity you want reclaimed,
Yet pushed away, an old antique,
They only think, some frozen tundra.
A question asked, you turn to speak
Who are you? What's your name?
"Je me souviens. I'm Canada."