#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
I look at the world From awakening eyes in a black fac… And this is what I see: This fenced—off narrow space Assigned to me.
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun—
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!
Let’s go see Old Abe Sitting in the marble and the moon… Sitting lonely in the marble and t… Quiet for ten thousand centuries,… Quiet for a million, million years…
Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you— Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple?
