African American Poetry (1870-1928): A Digital Anthology

Gods by Countee Cullen

I fast and pray and go to church,
And put my penny in,
But God's not fooled by such slight tricks,
And I'm not saved from sin.

I cannot hide from Him the gods
That revel in my heart,
Nor can I find an easy word
To tell them to depart:

God's alabaster turrets gleam
Too high for me to win,
Unless He turns His face and lets
Me bring my own gods in.

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