#AmericanWriters
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
Well, son, I’ll tell you: Life for me ain’t been no crystal… It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up,
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
I take my dreams and make of them… and a round fountain with a beauti… And a song with a broken heart and… Do you understand my dreams? Sometimes you say you do,
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.
Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is… (America never was America to me.…
My old man’s a white old man And my old mother’s black. If ever I cursed my white old man I take my curses back. If ever I cursed my black old mot…
I sat there singing her Songs in the dark. She said; 'I do not understand The words’.
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da… I built my hut near the Congo and…
Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head w… Let the rain sing you a lullaby. The rain makes still pools on the… The rain makes running pools in th…
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
