Respecting another human heart as u do ur own…

The reason I don’t push… I don’t know u… I’m looking at ur face but can’t see ur back…what’s behind u… Where ur coming from… Running from…All I see is ur face, which tells me whatever u will about urself… Whatever u choose for me to see and rest my judgement of u upon. Ur expressions could reflect who u really are and feel… be genuine… Or just a well practiced diversion of the pain u hide within u from people who are only in ur face because they want something. Only u and God know ur true story. I’m not a rapist. Not just of bodies, but also not of hearts or souls. Many of my kind “Men” see u as just a means to an end. Extra income…a way of getting the male urge out and away with no regard to the rest of ur value… Or as A punching bag who cant hurt them back as they routinely hurt u. I burn sometimes to be seen by u…but in order to see me , ud first have to open ur eyes and look at me…but there lies the problem huh… I look just like they all do…just another guy who wants something… And so because it can’t be truly seen with an outward glance that I actually have what u’ve only secretly dreamed of when u allow urself those dreams.. U pass me by… Silent. And I look at u and let u pass Feeling really empty.. Then I move and turn away to let u be… Good luck I say to myself, I hope u find what ur looking for… And I hope I do too…

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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