#AmericanWriters
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…
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
It would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is… (America never was America to me.…
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…
My name is Johnson— Madam Alberta K. The Madam stands for business. I’m smart that way. I had a
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
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
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long da… That I had to climb, that I had t… In order that the race might live… Look at my face —dark as the night…
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass