Old Poem

Growing up my parents gave me everything, and encouraged me to pursue my dreams.

I saw the world, played in all leagues on some of the best teams.

I was a spoiled kid; there was no limit to the things for me that they did.

But they hid the trauma of residential schools, and how they had been affected

 To succeed, they gave me all the tools, the wrongs of their past, corrected

For years others I have protected, my own happiness I neglected.

I made my own living, determined to succeed, I was driven

I was going to be a champion and the soul of a warrior, knew no give in,

But my career was cut short, body and mind hard ridden

Now in my own life, I still can’t get things right,

I want to come home to a wife, I don’t want to fight.

I want a girl that is all mine, although it feels like I’m chasing a dream I will never find.

I feel like I am not good enough, I never knew life after hockey would be so tough.

Problems arise, I just force a smile and say things are ok, head out the door and get on with the day.

Where am I going, I have no direction.

I thought things would be different, we had a good connection.

She better not play any fucken games,

I will fuck right off, she'll be another failed relationship memory, lost in a list of names.

Thinking I can’t wait till this schooling is done, and give my career one more run.

I can live alone; I don’t want to resort to fighting with her and bring pain.

I need to figure things out; this isn’t what I dreamed my life would be about.

I feel like a prisoner, trying to break a cycle,

Trying to move forward, and not feel like a fucken psycho.