Dame Poverty Gave Me My Name, And

The Truth Is... Everything Counts. Everything. Everything We Do And Everything We Say. Everything Helps Or Hurts; Everything Adds To Or Takes Away From Someone Else.

Ever At Thy Glowing Altar Must My Heart Grow Sick And Falter, Wishing He I Served Were Black.

Never Love With All Your Heart, It Only Ends In Aching.

Yet Do I Marvel At This Curious Thing:/ To Make A Poet Black, And Bid Him Sing!

For We Must Be One Thing Or The Other, An Asset Or A Liability, The Sinew In Your Wing To Help You Soar, Or The Chain To Bind You To Earth.