#AmericanWriters
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
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 —
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
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’m all alone in this world, she s… Ain’t got nobody to share my bed, Ain’t got nobody to hold my hand— The truth of the matter’s I ain’t got no man.
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered!
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening
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.