A Day in the Life of a Black Man

My parents lived in the town of Rockville, Maryland, when I was born on April 27, 1940. I can recall many memories of Rockville. Many of the other families, as well as mine, were poor.
My father did what he could to support his family as best he could. However, he was often depressed and unhappy with his life, and things were not as easy for a Black man as they were for a Caucasian. My father often drank and gambled what little money he had working as a short-order cook. We children and our mother often went hungry because he gambled his money away. We are all taught that there's only one God Almighty who created us all. If people believe this, why are there constant discrimination, deprivation, discomfort, and dislike against others due to the color of their skin? Being prejudiced against ignorance and behavior? Yes. But being prejudiced against one's different skin color? That is definitely a no . . . not one person, not one, has or had control over what the texture or color of their skin is. So why be prejudiced and jealous over something over which we have no control? I, being who am I, a man of color, sit at a round table pondering rationally. I am who I am. I am never to forget the past, be present in the here and now, and not change who I am in the future.
(About the Author)

A retiree and a disabled Army veteran, Albert E. Sewell lives in North Carolina. After serving in the military, the author/poet later became a police officer and has written five other books.