Because I am the white man's son -- his own Bearing the bastard birth-mark on my face, I will dispute his title to his throne, Forever fight him for my rightful place. There is a searing hate within my soul, A hate that only kin can feel for kin, A hate that makes me vigorous and whole, And spurs me on increasingly to win. Because I am my cruel father's child, My love of justice stirs me up to hate, A warring Ishmaelite, unreconciled, When falls the hour I shall not hestitate Into my father's heart to plunge the knife To gain the utmost freedom that is life. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRIENDSHIP by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE RUNES ON WELAND'S SWORD by RUDYARD KIPLING MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 9 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI MY SOLITUDE by JAMES R. AGGELES AT TWO-AND-TWENTY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PSALM 91 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE DEATH OF A FRIEND by LEVI BISHOP THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 34. REMINDING HER OF A PROMISE (4) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |