#AmericanWriters
I was so sick last night I Didn’t hardly know my mind. So sick last night I Didn’t know my mind. I drunk some bad licker that
Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
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
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think