“Who Will Guard the Children?”

Oh Canada,
Land of leaf and legacy
Where the rivers run wide, but our spines run thin.
We whisper apologies,
but scream affirmations
to kids still learning to multiply by sevens.
You tell a boy he can be a girl
before he knows how to shave.
Offer him a scalpel of “liberation”
before he’s kissed a girl
or skinned his knees enough to know
what pain really is.
You teach them truth is fluid,
identity a buffet.
Pick your pronouns with your pizza,
and if you’re confused?
We’ll clap,
not question.
But here’s my question:
Where are the rites of passage?
Where are the mentors,
the fireside stories,
the trials that raise boys into men,
and girls into women with pride and spine?
Instead, we crown confusion.
We sell surgeries as salvation.
We call it brave
to sterilize a generation
in the name of affirmation.
And now…
Now you whisper in the halls of Parliament
about death as a cure for teenage pain.
MAiD for minors?
You’ve lost your mind.
You don’t hand a loaded option
to a soul still figuring out algebra.
This isn’t progress.
It’s collapse,
camouflaged in kindness.
It’s the easy out
wrapped in rainbow ribbon.
And God help the parent
who dares to question.
Who says “maybe wait”
gets called a bigot,
a danger,
a threat to their own flesh and blood.
But I won’t stay silent.
Because truth isn’t hate.
And love isn’t letting a child
walk off a cliff
because they felt like flying.
They need anchors,
not ideology.
They need boundaries,
not bureaucracy.
They need fathers and mothers,
not activists in classrooms
teaching them that biology is a bigoted myth.
Let kids be kids.
Let them grow, stumble, rise.
Let them pass through the storm
before we rename them the wind.
Because if the adults won’t stand guard,
if we kneel before every trend and meta post
then tell me:
 

Who Will Guard the Children?