White Out

In twenty fourteen, I'm in a space between My twenties and thirties Sitting on the dream that life will eventually Mean something spectacular to me In my washed out city town, Its taught me a smile is irrelevant to a frown We work until we sleep, Opening ours eyes to dream I'd leave the nest but I'm not ready yet, I'm a yellow bird in a city of pigeons, Lifting my dreams high, look at my vision Sorry grandma, momma -- I'm not dying in the kitchen The city hits dusk and I'm still not ready yet I'm a little yellow bird swollen with pride, oh my Please, I don't want to die for dreaming my dreams And cresting on public steam to complete my beliefs Draw a list of attention we all should receive Can you blame this bird for trying to seethe With society consistently oppressing - "stop, desist!" In a blatant disregard to my political belief Totalitarian Canadian society, we could dream, Bleed and scream success in a world driven by make believe.