Tales Of Terror (Listen)
They're cold and they are far from where their heads lay.
They yearn for the comfort of a mother, a gentle touch at least,
Its "education" they say, but what is it they're really trying to teach?
Their things are instantly taken away,
Like that girls orange shirt on that cursed day,
Teared away from their families, everything they called home,
And condemned to be crying, starving, and alone.
Locked away for years with not even a name
-But a number. A simple pawn in the colonizer game,
Their ancestry, their cultures stripped away,
Their language forbidden, their history kept at bay.
To assimilate to their definition of civility,
To cut their hair, change their clothes to homogeneity.
To erase any memory of the way they used to live,
Broken and bruised, yet, they were only kids.
Daily lashes and constant lack of kindness,
Don't you dare turn away from the truth of this.
From this day, from these years they spent in captivity,
This IS Canadian truth, this IS our history.
And what's not cutting it, is"sorry."