#AmericanWriters
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
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 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
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
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
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.
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,
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
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is… (America never was America to me.…