The Poetry Corner

Protest

By Paul Laurence Dunbar

Who say my hea't ain't true to you? Dey bettah heish dey mouf. I knows I loves you thoo an' thoo In watah time er drouf. I wush dese people 'd stop dey talkin', Don't mean no mo' dan chicken's squawkin': I guess I knows which way I's walkin', I knows de norf f'om souf. I does not love Elizy Brown, I guess I knows my min'. You allus try to tek me down Wid evaht'ing you fin'. Ef dese hyeah folks will keep on fillin' Yo' haid wid nonsense, an' you's willin' I bet some day dey 'll be a killin' Somewhaih along de line. O' cose I buys de gal ice-cream, Whut else I gwine to do? I knows jes' how de t'ing 'u'd seem Ef I 'd be sho't wid you. On Sunday, you's at chu'ch a-shoutin', Den all de week you go 'roun' poutin'-- I's mighty tiahed o' all dis doubtin', I tell you cause I's true.