About The Author
Jay Thomas Willis was born in east Texas. He has a B.S. degree in sociology as well as a M.Ed. in counseling and a MSW in social work. He has held numerous social work positions over the past 17 years. Now a free-lance writer, he has written several books and frequently writes Op-Ed Commentaries for the Chicago Defender. He lives in Richton Park, Illinois, with his wife and two sons.
|Publisher:||Infinity Publishing PA|
|Edition description:||BUY BOOKS ON THE WEB.COM|
|Product dimensions:||5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x (d)|
Read an Excerpt
I was born in Texas in a shack,
Never having adequate clothing on my back.
My mother tried to blow my act;
But I said no this son won't crack,
You must be the quack.
Go tell your father and the father before him,
This is a new generation, and it's Black;
Before I die I will tighten up my act.
You don't know what you're doing,
Because your dad set you back.
If I had someplace to go I would pack,
But you would probably come and bring me back;
You are truly unreal and a sad-sack.
It's not your fault,
Your father broke your back.
So I must move on and write on my plaque;
But I am determine not to be a sad-sack.
THE EARLY YEARS
I lived in a rather peculiar situation;
My house sat on shaky rocks rather than a strong Foundation. How it sat there
so long I will never know, But those inside were given little opportunity to grow.
Mud stood a foot deep in the back yard;
Life was very hard.
Hogs, cows, horses, chickens, dogs, ducks, guineas,
They all had to be fed;
That's the kind of life I led.
Loose animals putting their droppings on the ground; it Was this way all around.
Foxes, wolves, weasels, snakes, all came to prey;
How many domestic animals they preyed on is difficult
Rats ran through the house and the barn,
Much as if they owned the entire farm.
At night it was rat-a-tat-tat-tat,
Stealing food as well as other treasures and running Back.
In the winter it was very cold;
To face it one had to be very bold.
Wind came through the cracks in the frame;
I guess you might say my father and mother were slow in Their game.
It required several blankets to keep warm,
Even then you couldn't keep your body from being Exposed to harm. It was muddy walking down that dirt Road going to school, but I kept it up because I didn't Want to be a complete fool.
Sometimes going to school I had no lunch money;
Life in those days wasn't sweet honey.
I got picked on and called a fool;
Many children thought I would never learn the rules.
I had but one aim,
To lessen my pain.
Got to keep moving!