His music echoes a sense of loneliness and unfamiliarity in a time where black individuals did not have an identity. When the musician is too dishearten to continue tradition, the piano becomes personified as his personal advocator and thus, “that old piano moan-/ An’t got nobody but ma self. I’s gwine to quit ma frownin’/ And put ma troubles on the shelf.(19-22)” Readers experience an overwhelming sense of exhaustion and hopelessness as the Blues illustrates his daily struggle to find himself amongst the isolation and bilious bigotry of racism. The musician continues his beautifully harmonized woes crying out that he, “Got the Weary Blues/ And I can’t be satisfied. / I an’t happy no mo’/ And I wish that I had died (27-30)”. This twelve bar stanza emphasize his defeat repetitiously until he goes to bed. It is this beauty and troublesome depth of weariness that creates the African American legacy. It is the tradition of struggle and resilience that creates a heritage of endearment that defines the collective and singular identity of the African American desire and hopelessness. Although, the musician seems to concede to his fate, the last few lines explain that, “The singer stopped playing and went to bed/ While the Weary Blues echoed through his mind (33-35)”. Implying that musical practices as well as the collective experience of weariness and subjugation, both consciously and instinctively define and shapes him. Thus, the tradition of melody and literature transform his dilapidated identity into a celebratory contribution to the movement and ideals of the Harlem
His music echoes a sense of loneliness and unfamiliarity in a time where black individuals did not have an identity. When the musician is too dishearten to continue tradition, the piano becomes personified as his personal advocator and thus, “that old piano moan-/ An’t got nobody but ma self. I’s gwine to quit ma frownin’/ And put ma troubles on the shelf.(19-22)” Readers experience an overwhelming sense of exhaustion and hopelessness as the Blues illustrates his daily struggle to find himself amongst the isolation and bilious bigotry of racism. The musician continues his beautifully harmonized woes crying out that he, “Got the Weary Blues/ And I can’t be satisfied. / I an’t happy no mo’/ And I wish that I had died (27-30)”. This twelve bar stanza emphasize his defeat repetitiously until he goes to bed. It is this beauty and troublesome depth of weariness that creates the African American legacy. It is the tradition of struggle and resilience that creates a heritage of endearment that defines the collective and singular identity of the African American desire and hopelessness. Although, the musician seems to concede to his fate, the last few lines explain that, “The singer stopped playing and went to bed/ While the Weary Blues echoed through his mind (33-35)”. Implying that musical practices as well as the collective experience of weariness and subjugation, both consciously and instinctively define and shapes him. Thus, the tradition of melody and literature transform his dilapidated identity into a celebratory contribution to the movement and ideals of the Harlem