I was taught that on the day of resurrection of the people The Creator will not even look at is the arrogantly proud poor person. Jeez… Subhaanallah… was this not me???… is this not many of us who I see here?…. my Facebook F the world posting gangsters and selfie-obsessed and potty mouthed-nobody’s good enough for me beauty queens? I just met a couple… yes yes once again…tweeking… moving around unsteady and agitated looking for snacks or something. Sadly, like a lot of these scenes they were pushing a baby stroller with a beautiful little smiling brown baby girl inside. Circling around the store I respectfully said they couldn’t have the stroller in the Isles but could wait by the entrance. The guy put on his hit man voice and macho’ up physically by poking his chest out and said he’d heard. Oh God, not again I said to myself shaking my head. I calmly tried to explain why we had this rule and he bounced away as if he was too important to care. Ok…The girl he was with tried nervously laughing it off as if to apologize for him…. Ok… she said something I could make out to him and he blew her off and marched off like a castle lord to some petty peasant girl. Yeah…Ok again, this is what I mean…look and see every angle. This man dressed like a man who was financially living on breadcrumbs. Here u are a father, with ur child’s mother and ur infant child with u, and instead of keeping urself together to be their rock ur bouncing around irritated and aggressive because ur smoking them probably. Using what little money u find to say &)@/Em!…I gotta hit this, they can wait! Yeah…U u u…and me? Well, I was the one who used to show off and brag about my new kicks to my friends that I bought from the money that came from selling those rocks to people just like u and making children go without. Two different stations but same bs… arrogant poor people..

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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