#AmericanWriters
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
In the Quarter of the Negroes Where the doors are doors of paper Dust of dingy atoms Blows a scratchy sound. Amorphous jack—o’—Lanterns caper
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…
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,
I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place. Got to leave this town cause It’s a lonesome place. A po’, po’ boy can’t
Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right
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…
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
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
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams