The Last Laugh

By Ingrid Green Adams

Sometimes folks tend to become envious of you because of your talents and special gifts or just sometimes they become envious for no reason at all. Whatever the case this book tells you how to stand strong and stay focused while experiencing everyday life situations at your home, while at church, in school and in the work place.

I know you may feel frustrated at times when dealing with these folks but remember you are in control of your circumstances and you will always then be allowed to have THE LAST LAUGH.

After all the last laugh is the BEST laugh!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796053241

Ingrid Green Adams

ABOUT THE AUTHOR INGRID GREEN ADAMS is a published author, motivational speaker, instructor, Teacher and owner of Green’s Consulting Company. She has published several books

Book preview

The Last But Yet the First

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I may be the last but yet the first you see,

That’s right born to a household of females in my family,

But that’s O.k. and somehow it’s actually cool,

Because I had lots of help growing up and going off to school.

Had my big sisters, who helped my mom take care of me,

Yes I was the last but yet the first that’s who I be.

Yes the first and only son born to my mother,

Wouldn’t trade that title away to a friend or another,

Male oh NO! Why on earth would I do that, now tell me please?

My mom had been hoping and praying for a son on bended knees,

And yes finally, yes finally I arrived into this world,

Predestined to dazzle every man, women, boy and girl.

Folks didn’t believe it, said oh my! She finally has a son,

And my mom was so happy to be blessed with me her little one.

Yes the little boy she wanted to dress in those little white shoes,

Yes the little boy she hoped for so now what would he choose?

That’s right, so now I was here, hey world what’s in store for me?

As the last one born into my matriarchal family.

It was quite obvious the difference between me and my sisters you know,

While they would move about so swift but quietly so,

There I would come just bustling along the way,

Needing a helmet on my head for all of the dangers I’d get into everyday.

I was quite busy, yes I was and this was new you see,

Yes after dealing with daughters here I come this male child so busy,

Always moving about climbing and jumping around,

Always full of energy, always ready to hit the ground,

Yes to go outside and be adventurous ‘cause that’s what boys do,

Well this was certainly different and my mom knew it too.

She was so protective, yes; she wouldn’t let me out of her sight,

Wanted to always make sure everything with me was all right,

And that’s cool you know? For a mom I guess it is true,

After all I was the last but yet her first and only to,

Grow up to be a man in this great big world,

Yes a black man to be handled and treated differently than one of her girls.

So she held me close, oh yes my mother did,

Yes she held me close, yes while I was her kid,

Growing up and doing the things little boys do,

She wanted me to be prepared for the pitfalls life throws at you.

Said there would be lots of folks who would think I couldn’t make it,

And sometimes I’d get treated unfair but I must be able to take it,

Until I was able to show them better than I could say,

Said I would be smarter, stronger and more successful that way.

Said I’d have the last laugh, oh yes, she surely did,

Said the best was yet to come for me her last kid,

So I went along in life always knowing,

At every sporting event and activity my mom’s face would be glowing,

As she was always there to support me with a big smile on her face,

Yelling and cheering that’s my son all over the place.

Somehow it felt great being the last but yet the first,

Somehow it was a wonderful blessing and never a curse.

I was glad to be the first and yet her only you see,

Because my mom was preparing me for my future eventually,

When being her only son would not be special to others,

And I’d have to get along in this world without the help from any brothers.

Yes I would have to deal with growing up as a black man,

In a world where the powers that be still don’t want to understand,

That my life matters but it is O.K.,

I’m going to be successful and have the last laugh anyway!

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The Struggle is Real

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Growing up as a little black boy oh the things that you feel,

Have you confused, tossed and turned because the struggle is real.

It’s so very hard for others to understand,

Because everything was meant for them as planned.

So all I can do is look at them and wonder why?

Why do I have to struggle so hard? Why don’t they even try?

Yes try to understand some of what I may be feeling,

After all it was their folks who did all of the stealing.

That’s right, they took my people’s blood, sweat and tears,

And made our lives a living hell for many, many years,

And guess what? They are still doing it today,

That’s why for me the struggle is real in every way.

Is it so hard just to try to understand?

If someone is not given a chance to prove themselves as a man,

Then how can they be equal at the table of brotherhood?

The concept is true but it never meant my people any good,

Because if it did we’d have a decent place to stay,

Because if it did they wouldn’t kill us in our churches as we pray,

Oh Lord now you know there’s just so much I can say,

To convince you that the struggle is truly real,

To convince you of all the pain that my people feel,

When you work all day and yes all through the night,

Never having enough but still trying to fight,

Against a system that was never designed to let you win,

It’s slavery all over, yes all over again.

Don’t tell me it’s not because I know the truth,

While you try to sugar coat the situation throughout my youth,

Yah, you allow me to be friends with your sons for a minute,

But let me be successful on the same playing field then it,

Becomes a different game and all of a sudden the rules have to change,

Ain’t it funny how things suddenly become very strange?

Ain’t it funny that I’m not so cool anymore?

Ain’t it funny how you must find some fault in me as you did before?

Yes in the past when my forefathers who lived on your plantations,

Who were enslaved and brought here from many nations,

Were striped of everything they knew and of everything that they loved,

You took everything from them or at least that you could or thought of,

But the one thing you gave us was this struggle and yes it is for real,

But my brother my people have learned how to recover so go on and try to steal,

The thing that matters to us is that WE matter oh can’t you see,

But I know you can’t because that’s not what you ever planned for me

That’s right the very thing you created to harm me forever,

Has actually strengthened me and allowed me to become more clever.

Think about how we as a people although tattered and torn,

Yes a people, who are impoverished and so full of scorn,

Somehow always survive because the struggle is real,

Just look around, I bet you can’t feel what I feel.

But that’s O.K. my people will always understand,

That’s why as a little boy my mama took my hand,

And said son sometimes in this life things are hard,

And son on most occasions no one can help you but the Lord,

So cry if you must but just you wait,

Learn to suck it all up, yes, discuss and debate.

There will come a time, oh yes, there will,

When you can do your own thing, yes, when you can fulfill,

Your given destiny as a proud black man,

But son right now I need you to understand,

And be proud right now as you stand in shabby clothes,

Be proud of who you are because only God truly knows,

The time,