Poem for Justin
Dear Justin, Please listen to me In the cradle of a nation, where the mountains rise so high, Women like me, we’ve toiled, under this Canadian sky. Years have passed, the seasons turned, my hair now kissed by gray, But the burdens that we carry, they grow heavier each day. I was young, with dreams and hope, and a baby in my arms, Yet no reward, no gentle hand, no shelter from the storms. Two decades gone, the cuts were deep, the funding slipped away, And here I stand, at 62, with bills I cannot pay. You know the struggle, Justin, your mother’s heart has bled, For mental health, for dignity, for a roof above our head. Yet here in British Columbia, the wealthy take it all, While those of us who gave our best, are left to watch and fall. They say Canada welcomes all, a million strong and free, But what of those who’ve been here long, who built this legacy? The jobs are few, the doors are closed, if you’re past thirty’s prime, And CPP, it barely feeds, while men fa
