Crowned with dark rebellious hair,Patience wavers just so much asMortal grief compels, while touchesQuick and hot, of anger, riseTo smitten cheek and weary eyes.Lord, forgive me if my needSometimes shapes a human creed.
In this poem, Cullen explores his African heritage and compares his ancestors in Africa to his life in the United States. He contemplates how much energy African Americans should put towards relating to something/someone you don't have that much in common with anymore.