I'm just a broke-@ss Indian.
The last decent thing I wore was a bridesmaids dress
At my sisters wedding, which was an ugly pink thing.
I hated it. I don't have much, I gave it all away.
I was trying too hard to please others. I messed up big time.
I should have been concerned with how I was feeling.
In my heart, there is a feeling
Of delicate remorse. I'm just a broke @ss Indian.
I should have delegated my time
A bit more properly, I barely have time to get dressed.
And all my clothes are falling apart. My mind is falling away
All there is left now is tattered writings and other dumb things.
There is this other thing,
Something I now have. That desperate feeling
That I will become nothing. I've thrown my days away
Just so I can read and write. A hybrid Indian
Such as myself, belongs in the gutter. I can't even dress
Right. I am nothing for I have nothing and have lost my time.
I'll managed my money better this time,
For myself, I'll do better things.
The way I dress
Reflects my poor demeanor, my sad demeanor, all that I am feeling.
Others would think I belong on drugs, because I'm Indian.
Because I dress like cr@p, my respect for appearance, thrown away.
The good health I once had has now gone away.
I cannot afford to keep myself up to par this time.
I'm a traditional broke @ss Indian,
Without work, without income, without anything.
This anger that I am feeling
Is what I wear as a dress.
I've never been one to wear fancy dresses,
It is they I cannot afford. I go away
To think some days about what it is I am feeling.
To think I wasted all my time
Wanting material things,
What I had was nothing more than words, for I am a broke @ss Indian.
When I think of that damn bridesmaids dress, I think of that one time.
I was left with nothing, it had gone away, and the only thing
I had was the feeling that I would forever be a broke @ss Indian.
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