I seen her face… And I was pushed to do it. I reached out… Trying my best to be dignified and respectful hoping she would be also. I introduced myself and she laughed at me. Making jokes about my race… I apologized for bothering her and parted in peace. They don’t know any better I told myself… At one time I didn’t either though… So how can I hate her. What type of man am I?… I keep asking myself this… What I want in this world it seems I’m not to have… I’ve been given something better I know..but the walk there is so lonely. Until I get there I have to endure… I have to… Ppl don’t believe in the promise… I do… It’s all I have left. So against the grain of my own conflicted soul I continue forward seeking the face of the one who created the world… Hoping for his mercy and fearing his retribution for challenging his unlimited greatness with my own inner arrogance and false pride.

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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