Thank you.
Thank you for your presence in our lives.
Thank you for easing our pains and soothing overwhelmed hearts.
Thank you for mending broken souls and fixing our insecurities.
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Mine is not your smartphone-age flamboyance.
Mine is not your modern 'here-today-gone-tomorrow' kind.
It lies not in my step,
But in the rhythm of my voice.
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Today we celebrate a champion,
We celebrate a gladiator.
We celebrate a virtuous woman,
My food bank and my mother's daughter.
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Your interests may be trash to someone else,
and vice versa.
That doesn't make you wrong or them right,
but different.
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It came bearing gifts.
Gifts of destruction and death.
It came hauling notices.
Layoffs, suspensions and evictions.
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A good man taught me to never put people in social standing categories. To accept others for who they are and to be kind to everyone.
Now I'm no saint, but I do my best.
A caring woman taught me to never use my privileges in life as a means to belittle people.
I'm no saint, but I'll hold on to that principle.
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She's beautiful,
She's brave,
She's a gem,
And a certified geek.
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I'm not you, and you'll never be me.
I advocate for causes that are dear to my heart.
See, I root for things that makes me happy.
I love 'wordsmithism', books, poetry, art,
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Don't belittle me, get to know me first.
I'm no saint, but I know I have a good heart.
Don't look down on people, not even at their shoes.
I may have a small head but I'm not dull.
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It began in the 1800s.
Pioneered by tactical barefoot warriors.
Shouldered by gallant gladiators.
Underequipped yet driven.
...