One Sure Kid

Once upon a time there lived a little boy. Raised amidst poverty and apartheid, his world was one in which ignorance was hard to beat. When just a little lad, he watched authorities pull a body from a creek. As a teen, after his daddy died, he watched rain drops fall from their leaking ceiling. Later on as an older teen of seventeen, for the first time, he saw grown men sleeping on a Chicago street. His home town was the county seat, a city filled with musical beats. Among the rich and the poor, this kid was very driven and very sure. He was sure of his God; sure of himself; sure of his faith; and he was sure that the rich became richer; but he was driven to be freed from poverty. There were plenty of evil deeds; all of which seemed designed, his future to impede. This kid was given birth in a place where so few wanted to be, even though his humble abode was also a part of "My Country Tis of Thee". The poor people in his never to be forgotten place continued to live and died; and kids never ceased to play. And they always thrived and survived, until nearly everyone eventually moved away. 04012016 cj FB; PS