‘80S Baby Righteous Life: Insightful Poetry

By Nasreath L. King

A 1980s baby, author Nasreath L. King was raised in Brooklyn, New York, a place that for him was one of the worst in America. With danger lurking in the corners, and an abundance of thieves and drug dealers, it was a difficult city in which to grow up.

In 80s Baby Righteous Life, King shares the stories of his life. Interspersed with poetry, he narrates the sadness and pain that permeated much of his existence. Abused and living a life of poverty, King discusses how he learned to forgive, overcome negativity, and strive toward happiness. He touches on a variety of subjects including love, obesity, and trust.

In this memoir, King tells how the love of his mother and his faith in God help him persevere. 80s Baby Righteous Life presents the message that each of us has a purpose in life, and King hopes to facilitate happiness and peace through his poetry.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Oct 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781480811683

Nasreath L. King

Nasreath L. King grew up in Brooklyn and experienced some rough life situations. He learned to stay positive, and he now communicates through his poetry writing.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Beginning of My Life

I was born into one of the worst eras the early 1980s. Yep! I’m a 80s baby, raised in the worst place in America Brooklyn New York. Mary, my mother, had me at age sixteen; she told me the world was so cold. The only person she could ever love is someone who came from her. God created me n o evil could prevent that from happening or try to ruin his plans.

Jasmine, my grandma, was not wealthy growing up. She raised five children by herself my aunts Nadene and Cindy, mom and my uncles Mathew and Peter with no father in the home. She worked as a hat and clothing designer, mainly making hats. When Grandma found out my mom was pregnant, she told Mom that they couldn’t afford to raise a baby. Grandma told Mom to give up her only son, who she devotedly loved, to live with his father’s family.

Mom ran away from home, knowing she had to protect her only son at all costs. She wasn’t going to give me up at all, even to my father. Mom was a fighter. She would take down a grown man or at least try. That’s a woman who knew how to hold her own. Let me remind you, we are talking about the streets of New York, where danger lurks at every corner. Robbers and drug abusers were everywhere, doing whatever it took, to get by in life, whatever habits they had to support. Even today, Mom has battle scars from so much fighting and protecting herself in the 80s. Mom has a lot of stories about how she and Nadene used to fight gangsters and bullies, but this is New York. What didn’t happen back in those days? People wonder why New York had a reputation for raising the greatest and toughest fighters of all time. People had a lot of experience growing up in Brooklyn.

My mom continued her struggles. She loved me devotedly and couldn’t bear the thought of anyone taking me away from her, not even her mom. She lived and took care of me on a train, for two months. She would go to the Covenant Houses and wash, change, and feed me. Wow! Mother of the year, if you asked me, because she lived in the worst era in the world but kept me safe and alive, obviously well fed because I was chubby.

My father, Stephan, and his family emigrated from the Caribbean islands. I came to find out twenty-five years later when I reunited with him. I was saddened to learn that when he was a young boy, he too was also neglected. His parents immigrated to the United States, with his sister and brother and left him in the Caribbean. As a youth, God knows what upbringing and upsetting events he went through not having a mother and a father around to be there for him.

I know how that feels. I felt the same way just having Mom beside me when I needed her the most to be there and protect me from family members and those who were harming me. My mom also grew up without a father, watching her mother barely surviving while taking care of four children. Well, it’s sad to say I was born into a broken family structure. I prayed and promised God I will not allow my children to experience what my mother and my father, and I lived through.

My father’s parents eventually sent him a plane ticket to United States; they lived in New York to be raised in the mean streets of Brownsville, Brooklyn. My father was a teenager at that time, and he did what every poor teenager did while trying to survive, rob and steal just to put food on the table. My father lived in a house full of young teens raising children, ballpark number was about fifteen, and I can’t even imagine that. While the parents were making minimum wage trying to feed children. They were teens taking matters into their own hands hustling, selling drugs, and partying every night.

The 1980s we all know about it. The drugs already had the ripple effect on the whole world by the time I was born. Lucky us, 80s babies. New York was the center of attention, when it came to world demand of the drug trade. Can you picture yourself trying to stay alive and out of trouble? Thank God my mother and father and the rest of my family and friends made out it alive. And those who didn’t, we pray that you are in a better place. Children become products of their environment, and it’s hard to show them different, if all they see, and all they are surrounded by is negativity.

I could cry, but no tears would come out of my eyes due to the senseless suffering I endured later on in my childhood years. I was raised cold all my life, which is ironic because I love the cold winter weather when it comes around. Then again, I was born on October 23, 1983. I was a winter baby, even as of today I still have many problems adjusting myself to the hot climate. I guess I see the reason why I love the winter weather when it comes around. I was raised in the cold with mom holding me so tight when kept each other warm but I became immune to the cold. I guess this was Ironic preparing me for the Cold life I was born into.

The New York streets was my baby Crib, drugs gangs life and was my TV program, it’s all I observed as Mom protected me with her life. The sounds of the train horns and screams of people fighting in the street was my Lala by song to put me to sleep, in my mother’s arms warms is the only