The Double Conscious Man

“It is a peculiar sensation this double consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his twoness, - an American, a Negro, two souls, two thoughts two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideas in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from going asunder”

- W.E.B. Du bois (Souls of Black Folk, 1903)

The Midsummer night has finally arrived

and the Double Conscious Man

who Lost and Neglected

the Creeping hours of time

finally Tires of waiting on Freedom

finally Tires of

the Incremental pace of Justice

he Weeps into the night

Hoping that Joy comes in the morning

for grass Grows in a burnt field

and his Scorched soul

can feel the ever Gentle breeze

one that is

both Nurturing and Uncaring

both Loving and Hateful

full of Compassion and Regret

But Atlas,

even glory Fades

The pain

of the Double Conscious Man

is the nostalgia of the Powerful

And it Blinds the eyes of a nation