Maple Leaf

I will paint a maple leaf on my face

And it will be my entity

I will swing the flag over my shoulder

And it will be my cape

The mapel leaf

The way it shines in the Canadian sun

Grants me a kind of strength

Burns in me a kind of pride

I know that as I cheer with my heart in my throat

Every scream is rich with pulses and hope

Every bellow is my way to commune

With the ones on snow

The ones on ice

I will paint a maple leaf on my face

And it will be my entity

I will swing the flag over my shoulder

And it will be my cape

When you see me, you shall see that maple leaf

And you will know that even my soul beats in the exact same shape

And I know you hear it, too

Tha familiar, glorious tune:

“O Canada

My home

And native land.”

The truth north is strong.

The true north is free.

The truth north is us.

We are strong and

We are free.

We are Canadians.

Yes, we are.

(A random poem from watching all the Olympics and feeling the growing patriotism inside of me)

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