I have a rendezvous with life.
If I am going to be a poet at all, I am going to be POET and not NEGRO POET.
The key to all strange things is in thy heart..../ My spirit has come home, that sailed the doubtful seas.
The loss of love is a terrible thing; They lie who say that death is worse.
Yet do I marvel at this curious thing:/ To make a poet black, and bid him sing!
For we must be one thing or the other, an asset or a liability, the sinew in your wing to help you soar, or the chain to bind you to earth.