You start with Coke
Regular
A glass bottle
Is preferred
If you're reaching for Pepsi
Get a clue
That sweet drink
Just won't do
A bag of peanuts
The salted kind
Which ever brand
Suits you fine
Grab your Coke
Pop the lid
Take a good
Long sip from it
Pour the peanuts
From the bag
Into the Coke
Till there's none left
Tilt it back
Drink and chew
Cause that's just what
You're supposed to do
If you're wondering what
This delicacy is called
It's Coke & Peanuts
That's Southern ya'll

Beauty standards!! I wonder who comes up with those,.. society?? But we are the society.. why do we come up with things against ourselves?
Making women and men feel bad about themselves just to advertise products.
Telling them,they are not good enough and will continue to be not good enough until they use that which is being sold.
Its sad really.. our insecurities are their adverts,. Whats sad is they give the solution but it leaves our minds the same,immediately after "fixing" the "defect" we look for another one..
The best solution is to know that true beauty is skindeep and judging people by outward appearance is not fair.

I am not your medicine.
I am not a miracle.
All I can do is hold your hand
every step of the way.
And be your hope
When you have none.
And be your candle,
When you are engulfed in your darkness.
I cannot cure that loneliness
Plaguing you everyday.
All I have is my presence,
and maybe I can ease your pain.
All I ask is you squeeze my hand
When I become terrified of your demons.
And I want you to understand,
That I also have mine to share.
And together, both of us
Can creep and survive
the jungles that we weaved
Straight from our minds.
And perhaps we will be victorious
Or perhaps it will take time.
But in this tunnel that you call life
I will be your flicker of light.

A most gracefully bird, but not of the air
White caped waves are his clouds
Water proof feathers is what he wears
He stands on the beach mighty proud
His wings won't let him fly
But through the ocean he quickly glides
You'll never see him in the sky
Behind the corral is where he hids
When lion seals are on the prowl
His play ground is a winter wonderland
He is by far the best dressed fowl
With his dashing tuxedo he looks mighty grand
By design he was denied freedom of fight
But that my friend doesn't make him sad
For in the ocean so deep he reaches new heights
The icy slides are his launch pad
He certainly is a wonderful bird
To call him anything else would be absurd