I tell myself Pack, remember the face of the world… U’ve seen her without her youthful and glamorous mask… She’s ancient and very ugly. So Don’t be fooled.. I look around and I see so many looking for their salvation in what’s being offered here. Thier own self-images, supposed financial prosperity, and even in other people. In these things does the hope for thier own self-worth lie. It makes me sad… I remember that chase. I read something once while in prison. I read… That one of the most terrible punishments of this life is the constant hunger and obsession for that which wasn’t even written for u… U’ll search and u’ll search.. But u’ll never find. An isolated fire dying to be fed it’s fuel… But the trees are too far away to touch… And so u burn out. This is truly… A hell on Earth.

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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