Bronzeville Man With a Belt in the Back

In such an armor he may rise and raid
the dark cave after midnight, unafraid
And slice the shadows with his able sword
Of good broad nonchalence, hashing them down.

And come out and accept the gasping crowd,
Shake off the praises with an airiness.
And, searching, see love shining in an eye,
But never smile.

In such an armor he cannot be slain.

by Gwendolyn Brooks