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Honor Your Father & Mother - a short story by A.B.King

  Once upon a time in a place called South Africa there lived a little 12 year old boy named John. He was athletic and loved to watch every Hollywood action film he came across. He was the only child of two wonderful Christian parents and had been going to church ever since he was born.   One Sunday in children’s church, the children’s church Pastor preached a sermon titled ‘Honor your father & mother.’ It was a sermon well crafted with stories, illustrations and scriptures to appeal and relate to the children who listened to them. John could distinctly remember the Pastor telling them that honoring your father & mother is the only commandment in all the 10 commandments that comes with a promise. It promises long life.   That really interested John. If he wanted to live long then he should obey his Mum & Dad.Some months later, a new way to have fun hit some of the young people of South Africa. Every once in a while a new way to have fun hits the young people of South Africa. It isn’t always safe or sensible but what is generally accepted as cool is cool to some people.   In this case, the new cool thing was called ‘Train Surfing.’ It’s basically a game where someone illegally climbs and stands on top of a moving train that is going at top speed and then the person pretends to be surfing the train like a surf board. Of course one can easily fall off so it’s all about maintaining balance.   John’s Mum knew that John was the adventurous type and just might try train surfing, so she told John never to train surf as soon as she knew what train surfing meant.   John happily promised his mother that he wouldn’t train surf.   In spite of John’s adventurous spirit he held himself and fought the urge to train surf.   One day while playing with his friends, his friends said they wanted to do some train surfing next. John was like, he’s not going – matter of fact he can’t go because he made his Mum a promise that he would never go train surfing.   John’s friends began to pressure him into disobeying his mother’s instruction. They tease him and tempt him until he gives in. After all his mother won’t know. Nobody would tell on him, besides he knows what he’s doing and it’s not as if other kids don’t disobey their parents sometimes. It’s not like if he’s the only one. Who knows? Maybe even his Mum disobeyed her Mum when she was younger some of the time.   John followed his friends to go train surfing.   A few minutes later, while surfing John slipped and fell off the train. He fell to his death.
The End.

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Our Boys In Blue - a poem by Alfred

Through Cold or Heat, Through Strength or Pain/
They Carry our Troubles, All Night, All Day/
They Risk their Future, To Keep us Safe/
Have you said a Prayer, For a Cop today?/
Without Police, No one would be Safe/
Bodies would paint the Street like Syria Today/
After the West played Chess and won the Game/
Have you said a Prayer, For a Cop today?/
Without Police in America, today/
Your Head and Your Body could be in different States/
One Part in Alabama, The Other part Up-State/
Have you said a Prayer, For a Cop today?/
We owe our Lives to Our Boys In Blue/
They carry the weight of the Red, White, and Blue/
And make it a Nation all Nations come to/
Have you said Thanks, To a Cop today?/

Why You Should Share This Post:  Because unlike some people, we Love & Respect those who risk their lives for us everyday.


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Rather Than Hate The Rich, Become Rich - a poem by Alfred

Crucify the Rich, Burn them at the Stake/
Punish them for succeeding, where the rest of us has failed/
Their Remote controls the State like the TV channels they made/
Only 1 per cent are safe, 99 per cent are slaves/
Occupy the 1 per cent, Hello to Project Eliminate/
We don't need rich people in the world, walk 'em to their grave/
Like Marie Antoinette, and then We Would Eat Cake/
All Rich People are Evil, Greedy, and Really Vain/
Away with Rich people, Let us dig their graves/
They plan to dig ours, I can see it in their ways/
Who needs the Rich to build Banks, Skyscrapers, and Planes/
Who needs the Rich to build Rockets to take us to Outer Space/
Wealth can't create more jobs than poverty makes/
Poverty is what this country needs, take wealth away/
Destroy the Rich to make the world a better place/
I hate Rich people, even though I work all day/
I'm sure it's no so I could be Rich some day/
And if I get Rich I would give it all away/
Because I hate Riches, I'…

Sunday Morning Blues - a poem by Alfred

The Sun rays slowly crawls through my window/
It kisses my closed eyelids with Gusto/
My eyes roll open like a hand of Ludo/
I stretch Good Morning like I'm practising Judo/
I Growl like a Lion on a half empty stomach/
I praise the God who gave me Life with No Buts/
The Sunday Morning air beats all Pizza Huts/
Fancy trying to put Happiness in a Box/
I Decrease the weight of my cereal box/
Church Bells ring, Christianity Walks/
It's a day we all remember our Christian Walk/
Even radios remember and play Gospel Songs/
I hear no fighting or quarreling behind closed doors/
Yelp, it's Sunday alright, even when it pours/
There's something about Sundays that always oozes joy/
A Day of Rest, A Day of worshipping God/
Sunday Morning Blues stretches beyond the church/
Rejoice in the Lord whether or not you go to church/
But don't forsake Spiritual Growth, you'll grow in Joy/
And the Sunday Morning Blues won't leave Monday Morn'/



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