Here comes the hurricane of “I”… An addict. PR 50/50

The truth of the matter is that I’m no super hero… I’m not any type of hero at all. I’m a storm of conflicting and violent winds trapped in a body of flesh, bone, and blood that pretty much destroys everything it touches. How I hate it… but what can I do but be myself and wail over my own unchangeable nature? I didn’t intend to pass on such innocently earned chaos and destruction, but here I am Oh mankind, a living hurricane of human confusion that comes to blow all ur fkn houses of well-being and safety down with no mal intent, but just the mighty winds of “me”… and I’ll leave u all completely hopeless and destitute!… all the while screaming, “I’m sorry!… I’m sorry!… I’m so so sorry!” 50/50

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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