Your door is shut against my tightened face, <br />And I am sharp as steel with discontent; <br />But I possess the courage and the grace <br />To bear my anger proudly and unbent. <br />The pavement slabs burn loose beneath my feet, <br />A chafing savage, down the decent street; <br />And passion rends my vitals as I pass, <br />Where boldly shines your shuttered door of glass. <br />Oh, I must search for wisdom every hour, <br />Deep in my wrathful bosom sore and raw, <br />And find in it the superhuman power <br />To hold me to the letter of your law! <br />Oh, I must keep my heart inviolate <br />Against the potent poison of your hate.<br /><br />Claude McKay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-white-house/
