So she left me standing there in a temporary state of worry… “was it something I did?”… “ something I said?”… this very old situation should be well mastered by now Pack. Once ur able to accept rejection with ur head up and ur dignity intact after having tried ur best, there’s nothing u can’t get through. Let them go and find whatever and whoever was meant for them. Their coming was not the beginning of the world and their leaving wasn’t it’s end… So March on Yaa mujaahid… March on… forever forward!

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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