This Father Wrote His Bullied Daughter a Song to Let Her Know how Special She is

This man has it right! His child was being bullied and delivered a wise message to his kids, It’s not about retaliation. He also has another video about his wife thats has over 1,255,935 views with 3.857 likes and 67 dislikes that correlates with the poems I write: https://youtu.be/y0XcsBFwVq8
I wish I could shake this man’s hand in person, but for now this reblog will have to do.

Kindness Blog

Bullying is a huge problem in schools around the world, which leaves thousands of kids a year feeling insecure and abused.

This foul treatment can cause both physical and emotional distress. The reality is that almost every kid experiences bullying in some way, so if you haven’t, you’re very lucky.

When this little girl told her dad that she was being bullied, he decided that he needed to tell her how special she really is.

Khari Touré - BullyingHe sat down and wrote a poem, which he then put to music, and created a song meant to inspire not only his own kids, but kids across the country who are dealing with bullying and harassment.

This dad is no stranger to viral fame. He once wrote a song to his wife about how he wished she loved herself more, which you can check out here.

We hope Khari Touré continues to make…

View original post 19 more words

Summer 1992

I Remember You

Young, vibrant exciting you were

 Shiny brunette hair with auburn highlights

What a delight you were

Boundless curls as men’s toes bowed

Those bedroom eyes made many sigh

I remember you

Early night comes as a gentle tap is heard

We talked while playing Asteroids and Chess

How I dreamt of your warm soft chest

Night’s air filled with perfumes of heaven

Gentle skin as ships sail in calm winds

Red ruby lips

Spin the bottle –kiss and tell

I silently fell –wishing, hoping that bottle point my way

Just one kiss

I remember you

University knocks as we prepare to rock

Full of desire and aspirations you were

One night your Father dims your light

His gambit ways as he ploys you to follow his university ways

Title waves bashing back and forth

As you plead your case, the gavel hammers down

Flood gate releases

Head on my shoulder

He starts to hither -I feel your body shiver

I hold you tighter

Exclamations fill the room

I feel the questions marks that pierce my soul

Awkward silence comes

Doom hovers, there is no cover

 I wish I were Doctor Strange –one twist of my ring

Verdict is in, judgment handed down

Disowned!

One swift kick with his steel boot

The sparkle that once was

Grand dreams of soaring is no more

You fought and clawed to pay for Chico State

To follow your dream of a School Psychologist

I remember you

A year has passed

I stand in the back

While you shook your ass

Legs wrapped around that shiny silver pole

Your hips -up and down you go as you licked your lips

Slowly removing thin pieces of cloth

Exposing flesh of desire

The color green fills the air

Invited to those private rich parties

I remember you

I awoke one morning, sun shining bright through the bedroom window

Sun’s rays tingling on my face

The way I felt each day when I saw your face

A bird sang its song in my ear that day during class

I in disbelieve

Bewildered from the songs that I have heard

The weight of a ton crushing my chest

I don’t believe as denial piles

Yet, there you laid upon that altar

Till my last breath

I shall always remember you

“A Fabulous Fashion Blog”

A fashion blog site: Mira Haykal
From nerd to fashion blogger to attorney….

Admirably Legal

They say that a good old letter is a dying art.  As a result, schools are phasing out cursive lessons in favor of computer classes.  This makes me sad, as I will always prefer a handwritten letter to a silly email. Gripe complete.

I was super excited to discover the Typewriter Rodeo team at a recent event at the Contemporary Museum of Art in Houston, Texas.  This is not your typical rodeo, and no animals are harmed in the process.  Perhaps just some exhausted fingers after countless hours of typing on another rarity, the typewriter.

Countless companies are people created across the globe in a trend to find new and innovative ways to enhance a party or event. I have highlighted some of these trends recently from s’mores bars to the infamous photo booth.  Leave it to the museum district to showcase a truly unique way to have fun.  Instead of…

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Was It Worth It?

This one is rather good! Makes one think about their life and where it’s going.

MidiMike

 6254407253_d1624faf33_b                                                                            

                                                                                  © 1-12-2010 MSK

You worked all your life to get to the Finish Line

And when you get there ….it feels good for a while.

Now you learn there is always another Line to cross

Paid for by the family and friends you never knew.

 

The question comes up from time to time

Blazing like the sun, mile after mile.

You can’t recapture youth or love that you’ve lost

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A Poem

To all that deserve recognition from time to time.

The days of past cast their shadow on you, yet you bless the day with every breath you take.

You do the chores that become a bore.

I wish I could do more to open the doors to let you soar.

Night has come, so warm and beautiful.

Within the field of stars, I see your face lighting the sky with every blink of your radiant eyes.

Though, I see the silent tears that fall as I stand here in the shadow of the night.

By nights lite, I see an image gently cascading down from Heaven’s gate inspiring dreams, hopes and aspirations of life itself and through the shades of gray, I see the beauty that gracefully hovers above giving cover below.

You are more radiant than a flower that blossoms in June.

You are more captivating than the sunrise, for it is you that shines bringing warmth and sensations of excitement-much like a roller coaster ride, slowly climbing to the highest tide descending on a thrilling-chilling ride of life.

July 1993

It was a warm summers day as most days are in California. The conifer tree in front raining it’s needles and cones. The rose bush displaying new blossoms filled with red, white and pink petals producing perfumes of heaven.

The walnut tree lives in back, a gigantic one at that, starting to shows signs of maturity a few more months and they will be ready. The peach trees that are in back as well showing signs of seasons end.

People coming and going some with smiles while others more serious.

A lady took Mom to the back of the house to talk, while my brother Steve and I stepped out in front near the Conifer tree. The air was still as we talked to each other. It was peaceful on this warm day in July.

Out of nowhere, a strong wind came up. I did not feel it on my entire body, only as though it were passing through my head and shoulder region and then it was gone just as fast as it came in. The leaves on the Conifer tree stopped swaying as well. That was weird.

My brother Steve and I looked at each other not saying a word.

We knew what happened. We rush back in our house, and Mom in tears. The people that were coming and going are on their phones chartering, yet, I don’t know what they were saying as though their voices were drowned out; like a fuzzy photo-distorted if you will.

Mirror Image

I stand here in a dark hallway with only a silhouette casting shades of gray

yet, you believe it is he that stands there.

I sit here contemplating life’s goals, hands and facial expressions that further your suspicions.

At times, a nightmare producing cries of torture throughout the house only strengthens your convictions, as I ponder your suspicions.

The voice from beyond haunts my mind as a gentle tap taps my soul.

Are you here? I yell out.

Receiving no confirmation, hesitations of the still air waiting with anticipation to only hear silence and compliance of a reality come true.

Have I become you from the dark?

I walk to the black box upon the television, read the name that is mine.

I stand here and you encased in a box surrounded with flowers of love.

The final days and last photos with my Dad.

The photos are true in every form showing what Cancer will do to a person. I did not take these last few days well as you can imagine, he was my hero and mentor. You have been warned, photos are below.

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Cancer, stomach cancer esophageal cancer,

Me and my Dad

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