The Coach, The Singer and You

So I was thinking about something and I came to the realization that America and the people in it only believe what they want to believe. America is jumping down the neck of Coach Sandusky for his actions with these lil boys over the last 20 years. I agree, he should be taken out back and have the shit beat out of him daily and his nuts cut off. Lets get that staight. But then you same people who scream from the mountians about how much of a piece of shit he is and how everyone involved with him shoud face serious jail time are the same people that celebraite Michael Jackson like he wasn't the same kind of piece of shit. You cry for his death and claim you wanted justice for his death and he was jus as bad,if not worst than Sandusky, and MJ got away with everything he did to multiple lil boys and just paid his way out of it. I just want you all to take a second and think about this for a minute. We need to put our children first and hold the people in public light to a lower standerd and call a spade a spade. Just something to think about. Have a great day

Don't Be Scared At The Storm

A child looks up to his grandma, crying, afarid of the loud thunder, the bright lightning and the hard, pouring rain. Grandma looks down at the child, holds him close and gently rocks him in her arms. She whispers into his ear "baby it's going to be ok, it's just the lord doing his work". Her words bring comfort to his tiny body but like most children her words send his mind racing. If the lord is always with us, how come it's only loud days and the painful days we here of his actions. His grandmother goes on to explain that it's not as simple as people make it sound. In order to build a beautiful world, first he has to destroy what's in place now. The lighting and thunder are his construction ball and jackhammer. Tearing down the walls of pain. The rain is his garden hose, washing away the debry of broken dreams, broken hearts and shattered lifes. After the storm will come the sun and that's Gods vacant lot, a clean slate for you to start building a new tower of hope, a castle of your dreams. As his grandma holds him and he starts to fall asleep, him feeling safer and not afarid anymore. The rain starts to let up and the sun starts to shine, he can feel the lord smile down on his forhead. Of the storm he is no longer scared. Because he knows it's now time to build.