#AmericanWriters
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—
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
I could take the Harlem night and wrap around you, Take the neon lights and make a cr… Take the Lenox Avenue busses, Taxis, subways,
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… flow of human blood in human veins My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da…
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
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