A Black Pierrot
I am a black pierrot:
She did not love me,
So I crept away into the night
And the night was black, too.
I am a black pierrot:
She did not love me,
So I wept until the red dawn
Dripped blood over the eastern hills
And my heart was bleeding, too.
I am a black pierrot:
She did not love me,
So with my once gay colored soul
shrunken like a balloon without air,
I went forth in the morning
To seek a new brown love.
From The Weary Blues (Alfred A. Knopf, 1926) by Langston Hughes. This poem is in the public domain.
Langston Hughes
A poet, novelist, fiction writer, and playwright, Langston Hughes is known for his insightful, colorful portrayals of black life in America from the twenties through the sixties and was important in shaping the artistic contributions of the Harlem Renaissance.