#Americans #Blacks
I was so sick last night I Didn’t hardly know my mind. So sick last night I Didn’t know my mind. I drunk some bad licker that
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,
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
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…
When I get to be a composer I’m gonna write me some music abou… Daybreak in Alabama And I’m gonna put the purtiest so… Rising out of the ground like a sw…
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 take my dreams and make of them… and a round fountain with a beauti… And a song with a broken heart and… Do you understand my dreams? Sometimes you say you do,
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think