#AmericanWriters
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
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?
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered!
2 and 2 are 4. 4 and 4 are 8. But what would happen If the last 4 was late? And how would it be
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
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
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
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
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don’t you 'member I told you abou… Way last week? Landlord, landlord,
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
I dream a world where man No other man will scorn, Where love will bless the earth And peace its paths adorn I dream a world where all
When the shoe strings break On both your shoes And you’re in a hurry— That’s the blues. When you go to buy a candy bar
My old man’s a white old man And my old mother’s black. If ever I cursed my white old man I take my curses back. If ever I cursed my black old mot…