#childern
FORGIVING IS WHEN U CAN’T LET THEM GOO
HOW FORGIVING SHOULD A DAUGHTER BE TOWARDS HER FATHER
HOW FORGIVING SHOULD AMOTHER TOWARDS HER CHILDERN
HOW FOR GIVING SHOULD A WIFE BE TOWARDS HER HUSBAND
Dec 16, 2023
Dec 16, 2023 at 8:52 AM UTC
My mom tells me it will be alright,
Yet I sit and cry about it day and night
As the people in my family become out of sight
It seems that the numbers get higher
I become not the only crier
Other parts of the world are crying too
My mom tells me it's like a flue
1 million are dying every year
My heart drops, for my moms time is near
So I began to pray
When evening comes around,
I began to frown
For my stomach groans
For within the day,
Their was nothing not even on the ground
But dead body's lying around
We bless them,
for in their afterlife,
Their will be grapes and veggies in sight
But for now the rest of us starve
Did you know 20,000 die every day
And that's just children
So we must pray
Pray for the ones that go to bed hungry every night,
Pray so in the morning there will be food in sight!
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 7:17 PM UTC
A story I read yesterday
about a father and son playing chess.
They were sitting over the board for hours now
arguing who is the king.
Which of those pieces wooden on that surface flat,
should be the one to be king.
The son was thinking and thinking, but he could not tell.
Troubled after a while he thought,
why his father asked him that.
"Who is the king? Who has always been king?"
Countless times before they played,
the question always remained the same.
The father, his son, he persistently asked -
who is the king?
The son like his father,
he wasn't an easy mind.
He wouldn't give up to a question so simple;
He was determined to prove his father wrong.
So many riddles by his father he cracked easy,
but this one, just wouldn't come to mind.
Protect it! Protect the king!
- said the father, with warm smile upon his son.
And the son deep in thought with fingers crossed
was just looking over the board;
..even more and more confused..
Moments ago I watched something.
It was a memo for a dead man.
On a beach that man was the father.
He played with his child around.
They were swirling in circles in the salty air,
before he rode into his last sunset.
Then the question hit me again - who is the king?
The screen went dark and the lights flickered to light.
Elevating murmur filled with clap, filled the room.
I turned back and I saw..
That father, that child, over and over again.
..everywhere, the whole room..
One jumping around, one sitting calm,
one excited, can't wait for fun,
the other just looking for his last piece of popcorn.
I watched upon those daughters and sons,
and then I realised who is the king.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC