Lazy Day

In my house I want to stay
In my pj’s the whole day
Wondering from room to room
I think maybe I should use the broom
But I’m just too lazy
And it would make crazy
To think that I have work to do
But all this time I knew
Sooner or later I need to work
Thinking about it makes me go berserk
I should just grab the ax
Work it and them relax
I need to stop thinking about Monday
And just eat a delicious sundae.

Lest We Forget

Lest we forget

That you fought for freedom

For our rights

For our government

For our Country

For our people.

Lest we forget

The sacrifices you made

The ones you left behind

The ones who cried

When you gave them your last hug

your last kiss

your last good bye

Lest we forget

The people you were forced to kill

the injured left behind

the friends who died

while trying to watch out each others back

Lest we forget

The desperation

The anger

The sorrow

The killers

The victims

The dead

Lest we forget

Our soldiers

Our Men

Our Women

Our Heroes.

Lest we forget.

Another race?

Have you ever been asked if you’re a different race from what you really are? I was on the bus once and this older gentleman came up to me and asked if I was Indian.  I had a hard time understanding him because he had a thick accent so I said yes (I had asked him to repeat himself like 3 times so I just decided to go with the flow) I told him I didn’t speak Punjabi.  We had a nice conversation.
Then I had a guy asked me if I was Jamaican, again I said yes,  this time I told him I was half white and half black.
Since then I have changed my story,  I have been half Chinese half Spanish or Arab and Korean and of course Canadian Aboriginal. I guess I have one of those faces, I can be any race I want.  It’s fun to see how people react. 
What have you been asked?  I’m curious to know.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

By: John McCrae