Life in a bag

When a backpack doubles as a pillow

Life in a bag

When a backpack doubles as a pillow

When you look at me begging for change, you shake your head - you see a ‘bum’ “a dirty Indian” or tell me to “go back to my country”

You don’t see me losing my wife and both my kids to a flood.

A memory that goes through my broken heart everyday.

When you look at me on the side of the road brushing my teeth with water And drinking mouth wash You don’t see how it keeps me from feeling hungry , because atleast something is in my tummy .

I pack all my belongings in a shopping cart and head to the park to find another bench for yet another night. Every night I search for another glimpse of hope. When you look at me lined up outside of the mission I’m my dirty clothes , hungry you see a dirty Bum

You don’t see my parents

You don’t see my brother or my sister

You don’t see my family

When you look at me crying , hitting the air Or Screaming out in desperation You call me crazy, I must be a drug addict , I must have chosen the wrong path .

You don’t see the residential schools And how I was raped as a young boy

You don’t see what I went through

You don’t remember the smell of decaying bodies as the priests and nuns

Burned the babies alive

The children born of sin Because they were created from rape of innocent little children

So they killed them

When you look at me

You release a sigh of disgust .

Or I’d receive the beating of a lifetime, punched nearly to dead Till I could finally run away But until I can find a job, I sell drugs to pay for my food , I steal , I do what I can to eat Most of all When you look at me you don’t see YOU

And how WE - we are the EXACT. SAME.

How all it takes is one wrong moment; ONE time or place

ONE. SINGLE. MOMENT.

To change your entire mentality. To see why I spend my days drinking my pain away , using drugs To endure this soul shattering, heart-wrenching life.

So the next time you look at me, I hope you see

more than a bum, a Indian on drugs I hope you see I could’ve been just like you

If I had the blessing of a life without torture and abuse I hope that you see that at one point , you and I were the same .

Id loveeee if you could follow my new Facebook blog please ❤️🙏🏻

@thestoryofamom

https://www.facebook.com/The-story-of-a-mom-107949540680342/

slam poetry
Danika harnett
Danika harnett
Read next: Poem: New Life
Danika harnett
See all posts by Danika harnett