#AmericanWriters
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.
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
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 —
Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don’t you 'member I told you abou… Way last week? Landlord, landlord,
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
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...
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
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 would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
Big Boy came Carrying a mermaid On his shoulders And the mermaid Had her tail
The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun.
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.