What makes my heart hurt. Irresponsible wanton sexuality… We’re humans, it’s a part of us…it isn’t evil, but it can be. Let me tell u what I saw here at my till serving the people. Guy comes in. Somewhere in his thirties maybe. Dressed like many young men around here do, trying to throw off a trap boy image. He came to me and I thought ” here we go again! ” the man was tweeking. Meth. Jerking around, unfocused, trying to figure out what kind of Blunt he wanted. I’ve seen it so many times I went unfazed. He wasn’t my issue tho. Standing next to this lost soul was a young pretty girl. She couldn’t have been more then than 17…dressed like she was a street hustlers pet. I didn’t feel lust… I felt rage. Her head was down.. Her eyes hidden by dark shades. I don’t know why I did it but I directed my questions towards her. I said subhaanallah.. She’s on meth too. Looked so embarrassed and scared trying to answer me. This grown ass man who’s walking around thinking he’s some kind of stud f’n high and incapable of even talking clearly, dragging this little beautiful native sister around and leading her down a path that without doubt will destroy the dignity and innocence that she was born to have because he wants to pretend he’s some kind of Player? This is someone’s f’n daughter! Someone’s grand baby”…sister!.. A little girl! High… Lost… That damn pipe! This damn sex culture we laugh and brag about. I used to think women who dressed like they were begging to give it away were only in value what they were giving away. This little girl tho… I’m not God… But I wish I could heal…to help…to change the evil I see. But the world’s the world. This is everywhere. Wherever ur at little beautiful sister. I’m sorry for where u are. A thousand prayers from my heart to our maker that he finds u.. Restores ur true worth and Guides u to better and keeps u. Pack Redfeather.

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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