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A Saulteaux and his Child

A red door opened three times... 
Each time I began to realize how I had matured. 
You see I am an adult child... Red Road is not my own. 
Pain stricken in my heart. 
Emotions raised from a destructive and unknowing mind. 
Men and Women crippled by this rampaging boy spirit. 
Frayed sweetgrass so was my path. 
And I cried as I sank an eight ball. 
Publicity from bad to illusion to bad again. 
In a room full of people not a soul could hear me as I anguished out loud. 
Half-breed face full of rage... for a community filled with pride. 
Uneven trade and moves of deception. 
I constantly denied. 
The acceptance of powerlessness. 
I now pray for one day. 
I hold my baby and whisper promises of caring. 
That I am too just a child. 
And I am all that you have. 
That I make mistakes, and have cried like that before. 
We will pray together... 
Baby and I.