An excerpt of the short story:
"You Ever Seen A Grown Man Cry" from the book Please Tell Me If
The Grass Is Greener
Please
Tell Me If The Grass Is Greener
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Format: Mass Market Paperback, 2nd
ed., 96pp.
ISBN: 0970672608
Publisher: End Of The Rainbow Projects
Pub. Date: February 2002
I wake every day to the shine of the sun and the tunes birds sing, but I can't seem to get excited about a day that I know ain't got nothing in store for me. Today someone is going to hit the lottery and tomorrow someone is going to fall in love. Anything good happening to me on any day is unheard of.
Sometimes I hate living and wish I was dead. I ought to lodge a bullet right through my head. I've thought of doing such but each time I've reneged. I figure if I have the courage to self inflict death then I have the courage to live.
But what in the hell do I have to live for when I have a son that the bitch won't let me see. She's got some man living up in her house and James Jr., my son, is calling that nigga daddy. My boy is five years old and I haven't seen him since he was two. That bitch told me I wasn't no real man when I turned down good jobs to go to school.
The university was going to provide me with an education in exchange for me swinging a bat. There was hope that I would become a baseball star and I wanted nothing more than that. That way I would be able to provide my boy with all the things I never had. There would be genuine pride in his tone when he'd say to his friends, "That's my Dad".
I had my life all mapped out until a drunk driver entered the scene. Some woman, after downing six drinks, totaled my car and totaled my dreams. Her car hit mine head on when she drove into my lane. The doctors did all they could but said my batting arm would never be the same. I tried exercising my arm but that only made it worse in a moment's time I had been raped by the quench to my dreams thirst.
I'll never get my hopes up about anything else in life. I know first hand how one can be slapped down when trying to come up right. Not being able to see my son kills me softly day by day. Not being able to tell him I love him hurts in the worst of ways. The saying that every boy needs a man is his life is not true. Every boy needs a daddy in his life. Not just any man will do.
So many young folks don't want to hear the elders. They want to experience everything first hand. If I had only been listening a little earlier in life probably wouldn't be in the predicament I'm in. I was told to worry about making love and making babies after making a home for me and my wife. I didn't hear anybody though. My life had been all planned out by me. But when confronted by the realist of reality I was left standing dumbfounded and ignorant of a plan "B".
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