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

Where is the Jim Crow section
On this merry—go—round,
Mister, cause I want to ride?
Down South where I come from
White and colored

By what sends
the white kids
I ain’t sent:
I know I can’t
be President.

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, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,

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—

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

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?

When Susanna Jones wears red
her face is like an ancient cameo
Turned brown by the ages.
Come with a blast of trumphets, J
When Susanna Jones wears red

I know I am
The Negro Problem
Being wined and dined,
Answering the usual questions
That come to white mind