#AmericanWriters
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
My old mule, He’s gota grin on his face. He’s been a mule so long He’s forgotten about his race. I’m like that old mule —
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
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
I sat there singing her Songs in the dark. She said; 'I do not understand The words’.
Big Boy came Carrying a mermaid On his shoulders And the mermaid Had her tail
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
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
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place. Got to leave this town cause It’s a lonesome place. A po’, po’ boy can’t