America

Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger's tooth,
Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
I love this cultured hell that tests my youth!
Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
Giving me strength erect against her hate.
Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
Yet as a rebel fronts a king in state,
I stand within her walls with not a shred
Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
And see her might and granite wonders there,
Beneath the touch of Time's unerring hand,
Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.

by Claude McKay

Comments (17)

it has a rich taste of of America if that makes any sense
I think this poem really has a very good nhow of America
garbage i hate this its boring as hell
I love this poem. As Italian with a denied visa and a consequently denied dream, I feel this poem a lot. Thanks for sharing such an amazing set of emotions.
Such an interesting poem presented nicely. Thanks for sharing and congratulations for the poem of the day.
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