God's Broken Lil' Baby. E. Jay Ford
God's Broken Lil' Baby
E. Jay Ford
Copyright © 2019 E. Jay Ford
All rights reserved
First Edition
NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING
320 Broad Street
Red Bank, NJ 07701
First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2019
ISBN 978-1-64531-675-6 (Paperback)
ISBN 978-1-64531-676-3 (Digital)
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
To my mommy. She was my everything. When she left me, I felt like nothing. It took me a long time to learn to live with her death. I thank her for all she taught me. I thank her for my struggles because they made me strong. I love you, Mommy. To my husband, Jerome, who puts up with my madness. Thank you for honoring our vows and being by my side. You are my life, and I appreciate you more and more every day. To my children, Jerrikka, Jeffery Jr. and Jordan, who are the beginning and end of me. I gave you life, and in return you gave me life. I love you three monsters. To my grandson, Mason, the world revolves around him if you let me tell it. To my siblings, Angie, Lil Guy, Jennon, Patrick Jon, and Brian. Lifelong best friends and my backbone. Life doesn’t exist without you. To my Aunt Mae, Uncle Roger, and cousin Robin—at my weakest, you were my strength. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. To my Fab Five, thank you for being my lifelines to hope, faith, and love. To my goddaughter, Takia, who has never turned her back on me ever no matter what anybody said about me. Thank you, baby, for being my rock. To all my family and friends who walked with me through this process. I appreciate your support. This book is the first of many I plan to write. Thank you for the push to finally become what I wanted to be when I grew up.
P
relude Introducing Me
My soul
Tears Flow from the Heart of a Ghetto Child
No one knows what it’s like unless you are there.
Teachers and politicians preaching about it getting better, but they don’t care.
Things have happened in my life of which I had no control.
Could never see myself being released from the ghetto’s hold.
Transformation from girl to woman was not even close to being easy.
Conditions in which I lived in were depressing and displeasing.
As a child of the ghetto, you learn harsh realities early in life.
So you hold on to your family with all our might.
We have had some good times, but they never seeded to last very long.
As an adult, I write this poetry of my ghetto trials,
only to hope someone’s listening to the tears flow from the heart of a ghetto child.
Life is not even close to what you perceive it to be. What you think you know is not even in the same universe of reality. It’s even worse when you grow up broke and