African American Poetry: A Digital Anthology

To My Fairer Brethren by Countee Cullen

Though I score you with my best,
   Treble circumstance
Must confirm the verdict, lest
   It be laid to chance.

Insufficient that I match you
   Every coin you flip;
Your demand is that I catch you
   Squarely on the hip.

Should I wear my wreaths a bit
   Rakishly and proud,
I have bought my right to it;
   Let it be allowed.

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