I met a little blue-eyed girl--
She said she was five years old;
'Your locket is very pretty dear;
And pray what may it hold?'
And then--my heart grew chill and sick--
The gay child did not flinch--
'I found it--the tooth of a colored man--
My father helped to lynch.'
'And what had he done, my fair-haired child?'
(Life and Death play a fearful game!)
'Oh, he did nothing--they made a mistake--
But they had their fun, just the same!'
Published in The Crisis, July 1912