It is the Negro's tragedy I feel Which binds me like a heavy iron chain, It is the Negro's wounds I want to heal Because I know the keenness of his pain. Only a thorn-crowned Negro, and no white Can penetrate into the Negro's ken, Or feel the thickness of the shroud of night Which hides and buries him from the other men. So what I write is urged out of my blood. There is no white man who could write my book, Though many think their story should be told Of what the Negro people ought to brook. Our statesmen roam the world to set things right. The Negro laughs and prays to God for Light! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SHADOW-CASTING by JAMES GALVIN PERSPECTIVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON REVIEW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WAITING IN THE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL by CLARENCE MAJOR OCTAVES: 21 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON GOOD-BYE DOROTHY GAYLE: THE ROAD TO BUFFALO by KAREN SWENSON |