50 million doors

I told myself yet again, for I forget constantly… “Pack, if u were in a house with 50 million doors, would u despair, scream failure, and jump out the bloody window if u found one, ten, hell…even a thousand of them to be locked?!… remember, there’s 50 million damn doors here, don’t be lazy… get moving and try them all If u have to, till one opens!”…

Published by Pack Redfeather

I am a walking contradiction of traditions some say. An African American and Native American Muslim poet with a personal life history as violently turbulent as a Storm. A visionary from the bottom of life’s social barrel striving to share the hope found in the light of faith through sometimes dark but real poetry. I’m a former member of the Bloods street gang, former serial bank robber, and both federal/state prison convict. I live on my mother’s tribal reservation of the Leech Lake band of Ojibwe in Minnesota.

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