#Americans #Blacks
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
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
To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening
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…
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
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…
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
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,
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
