#AmericanWriters
Being walkers with the dawn and mo… Walkers with the sun and morning, We are not afraid of night, Nor days of gloom, Nor darkness—
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.
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
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
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
The gold moth did not love him So, gorgeous, she flew away. But the gray moth circled the flam… Until the break of day. And then, with wings like a dead d…
When Susanna Jones wears red her face is like an ancient cameo Turned brown by the ages. Come with a blast of trumphets, J… When Susanna Jones wears red
Only dumb guys fight. If I wasn’t dumb I wouldn’t be fightin’. I could make six dollars a day On the docks