#Americans #Blacks
Being walkers with the dawn and mo… Walkers with the sun and morning, We are not afraid of night, Nor days of gloom, Nor darkness—
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow… I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other ni… By the pale dull pallor of an old…
Oh, silver tree! Oh, shining rivers of the soul! In a Harlem cabaret Six long—headed jazzers play. A dancing girl whose eyes are bold
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
When the shoe strings break On both your shoes And you’re in a hurry— That’s the blues. When you go to buy a candy bar
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
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.…
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…
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
