CANADIAN FREEZE

Cold winds blowing through the maple leaf sky,

dreamed of a future, but the promises lie.

Frozen in the system, we just trying to survive,

in the great white north, keeping hope alive.

They freeze you out, then they wash you away —

survival of the fittest in the cold today.

The flight landed in a blizzard, blinding in white,

left the tropics for a chance at a brilliant light.

But the frostbite is deeper than the skin can show,

buried under stereotypes and three feet of snow.

They smile to your face with a polite restraint,

but the red tape is a cage that you cannot paint.

Institutionalized walls, invisible lines,

Black skin in the drifts paying heavy fines.

They demand Canadian experience to lock the door

while you sweep the hallway floors with a master's degree or more.

The chill in the air matches the look in their eyes,

a systemic trap wearing a mosaic disguise.

No warmth in the bureaucracy, just icy glares,

climbing up a broken set of societal stairs.

Hypothermia of the soul, we freezing in the dark,

left out of the system, missing the mark.

Clicking on a link for a hope and a prayer —

just a phantom job posting fading into air.

Identity stolen by a ghost in the screen,

the cruelest job scam that you ever seen.

We desperate for bread so we swallow the bait,

paying up-front fees just to seal our own fate.

And we look to each other but the bridge is torn,

too much trauma in the diaspora, weary and worn.

It's hard to come together when you're fighting for crumbs,

numb to the rhythm of the community drums.

See the Indians and Chinese built an ecosystem,

tight generational wealth, businesses in the light.

They buy up the block, pooling funds in the room,

while we fight individual battles in the gloom.

No collective advance, just a fractured state,

distrust in the diaspora, sealing our fate.

Why do we tear each other down when the winter gets cold,

selling out our brothers for the stories we're told?

The block is freezing, the shelter is tight —

we need a fire but we're losing the fight.

Step out of the line and they cancel your name,

the digital tribunal put your soul in a flame.

Nonconformist minds get erased from the view —

tear down a brother if his vision is new.

No room for dissent in this polite regime,

they exile your voice from the national dream.

If you don't speak the script then they chop down your tree;

in the land of the brave you ain't allowed to be free.

A culture of fear where the jury is online,

one wrong phrase and you're running out of time.

They don't want the truth, they just want the applause,

enforcing the silence with arbitrary laws.

So the pain stays suppressed in a microphone booth —

the Fuji-style refugees speaking the truth.

The winter keeps howling, the fire burns low;

they cancel the revolutionary under the snow.

Cold winds blowing through the maple leaf sky,

dreamed of a future, but the promises lie.

Frozen in the system, we just trying to survive,

in the great white north, keeping hope alive.

They freeze you out, then they wash you away —

survival of the fittest in the cold today.