Dads Against Bluez

Generation after generation, we seem to always find ourselves trapped in this cycle of insanity, doing the same ol’ things but expecting a different outcome. We thrive for that embrace, that respect, that honor. We work hard for that cause, our cause, that gangsta cause, inside these prison walls and outside as well. Penitentiary chances every time we walk out that door. Along the way, down this lonely road of entrapment, we always seem to forget about the people who matter the most. Our family, our kids, our next generation.

Take a ride around your neighborhood and tell me what you see. Fill up your gas tank at the nearest QT and tell me what you see. Actually pay attention to who is sitting at that bus stop, or who is walking up to your car asking for a dollar to clean your windows. With great regret, it’s probably your nephew. Damn… it’s probably my daughter. Why? Why, God, does it have to be my daughter? Is it not true that the angel of my life reflects the eternity of my joy, and the smile on my face shows the love in my life? When can we honestly say “enough is enough”? When can a man truly say to himself, I surrender? Love has no justification, so why not?

From Glendale to Chandler, Phoenix to Tucson, East to West, I urge my community, my brothers inside and outside these brainwashed walls—to stand up for the real cause: our kids, our family, our next generation. Thrive for their respect. Thrive for their honor. With enough memories, we all have a dream, a talking picture show with all that is true about a man. Love our next generation, without condition. Join me, and let’s make DABZ — Dad’s Against Bluez a mark, a brand, a mission to spread awareness about fentanyl pills. Bring hope to our community. Share our testimonies and fight for who matters most: our kids, our family, our next generation. Let’s unite together every first Friday of the month at our local neighborhood park and remember the fallen angels who have passed from this epidemic—and use their passing to help others.

Whatever happened to the generation of kids who played football outside in the street and recognized the importance of respect and honor for themselves? Somewhere along the way, we lost ourselves. But now we know better. How many times have you heard someone say, “If I only knew then what I know now”? Let’s build our relationship back with our next generation. Respect is key. Driven by old habits and emotional dramas, a union will fail. We must form our foundation, build, and hold firm. Do not let go. No pain whatsoever hurts more than seeing your own kid homeless, hurt, insane, angry, or even dead. No pain can compare, not even close. You say you got me? If I need help, right? Well, here I am, drifting away on a dying breeze, on my knees, begging the Lord, please, don’t take my daughter. I’m all she needs. No amount of money is worth the suffering of our next generation. Seeing the world with sober eyes really puts things into perspective. Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned. Mold me, guide me, and carry me out of this life style and into a position to help others.

Written by the founder of Dabz (Dads Against Bluez)