Know Me?

You think you really know me,
However you know what I let you see.
Call it fake, call it self-protection,
Hurt me, no, you won’t get the satisfaction.
You haven’t been in my shoes,
You can’t imagine the battles I lose.
My life isn’t flowers and white picket fences,
Shoot you weren’t in my life I made my own defenses.
Know not my circumstances or where I’m from,
You’ll never understand the hurt already done.
You say you won’t do me wrong,
You say in my life you belong,
You tell me all these nice things,
As soon as I let my guard down the lies begin.
I won’t go there my wall is for a reason,
That’s why I go through relationships like seasons.
The minute you think you really know me,
I’ve already made steps to set you free.
I push you out the door with a kiss goodbye,
Because you won’t hurt this woman if there’s no ties.
The one in the past I fell for,
Is the one I gave my devotion and adored.
Guess what life isn’t roses I received no love back,
Now I’ve built my life on a single track.
When I love I give my all my whole heart,
Not again you won’t get a chance to rip it apart.
Switch up my style and let you believe,
You’ll never know what I have up my sleeve.
Let you fall and you don’t even see,
In the end you still won't know me.

by Coreena Dejesus

Comments (11)

Yes yes yes yes yes yes I do not understand
The problem is within the white....so they suffer...not the negronegros...welspoken...
I think some of the comments here presume Hughes excepts the idea of a Negro propblem, begging the question what it is, who decides what is (if there isn't rather a white man problem) etc. That he has a more ironic critical position to the pseudo-ethical dinnertime debates of white New York lies in the opening lines I know I am the Negro Problem, which if taken plainly would be absurd.
Um I agree with Darrell but at the end I think he means that it's great that they're acknowledging that there is a problem, but the solution to that problem is going to have to wait. The whites realize that there is a problem, they just can't, or don't, want to fix it just yet.
I personally think this poem is about Langston being invited to a fancy restaurant by a white person and the two of them are discussing race. You can tell by the way he says 'Asked the usual questions' and how the white person is embarrassed to be white. A black person in a fancy restaurant was a big deal back in those days. Not only do they have to wait for service in the restaurant, but their discussion is about the answer to race relations and in the end of the poem he says; the answer to the problem is to wait. Genius duality.
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