#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun.
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
When the old junk man Death Comes to gather up our bodies And toss them into the sack of obl… I wonder if he will find The corpse of a white multi—millio…
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
The gold moth did not love him So, gorgeous, she flew away. But the gray moth circled the flam… Until the break of day. And then, with wings like a dead d…
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,