#AmericanWriters
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
When I get to be a composer I’m gonna write me some music abou… Daybreak in Alabama And I’m gonna put the purtiest so… Rising out of the ground like a sw…
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
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
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
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
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
Where is the Jim Crow section On this merry—go—round, Mister, cause I want to ride? Down South where I come from White and colored
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.
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!