The middle road… I was told a believer should never call upon his end…for us all there is a term Set that cannot he hastened or delayed… the angel who extracts the living out of the dead comes when he’s commanded. He answers only one master’s call although we’re fooled to believe otherwise. The Quran says “none can perish except by God’s permission!”… this brings me comfort… if I’m to live, than I choose to build for the next life…to foster peace through tolerance and patience and not hate through false-judgement and bloodshed…how is it that unlike some I don’t long to live here a thousand years?… open ur eyes and wake urselves up! The money wasted in those machines, or on those bottles, or pills, or shards, or blunts could of filled the bellies of many tonight… “my kids are straight!”u say… what about ur neighbors kids? Or their neighbors kids and on and on down the line! Instead of trying to entice some young and foolish pretty girl into shaming herself for ur own temporary enjoyment, treat her like u would ur own little sister and honor what she is or eventually will be… a mother and teacher of our future here. Instead of settling for the dirty house of ur life get a bag, will to get urself up, and start throwing the useless and harmful things away! No, I’m not in love with this world or this life…I believe in things many of u hold as fairy tales and nothing more…but I can tell u this… that besides failing in the duties put on my shoulders from my maker to bear here while I live, I have no fear… and as long I continue to try in his name with actions and not just talk I have honor…do u hear?… do u see?… maybe I am jaded and shaded just a touch… but until the servant of the Creator comes, either dark or bright to release me from this container I’ve been made to live in called a body, I’m on what I’m on… I don’t truly desire anything more! Peace…

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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