#AmericanWriters
It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun—
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
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 would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
Listen! Dear dream of utter aliveness— Touching my body of utter death— Tell me, O quickly! dream of aliv… The flaming source of your bright…
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
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…
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done