Perhaps I’m wrong. I do believe though, somewhere deep down that once again the Pack’s being lied to and played. So be it I guess. The word karma doesn’t mean much to me. On my road here though there were many people, especially women, who sought something from me that I claimed to have and yet really never possessed. A clue about where I was headed…about what I really wanted. I know now… But the women I allow in now treat me as I’ve treated others then. This sounds like that karma everyone keeps telling me about. God tells me no fornication. So I haven’t touched a woman outside of marriage for 7 yrs. I don’t even shake hands. For a man who was raised as a hellion, untrained in sincerity, modesty, or virtue this is quite a feat… But it all seems pointless now. I find my ways unappreciated and easily taken advantage of. A woman doesn’t conquer me with her body… But with promises in God’s name to access to her heart. I was given a key to this heart… I went to the door and tried to open it… Damn, wth… Not again! wrong key! So I knocked, yelled, then finally pounded on the door… No one there… No one at all. I stand for a moment… Then I turn around and leave., back down the road I came from…alone. My life… My destiny… My Karma… So be it.

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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