I Have A Rendezvous With Life.

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

All Day Long And All Night Through, One Thing Only Must I Do: Quench My Pride And Cool My Blood, Lest I Perish In The Flood.

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.

My Poetry Has Become The Way Of My Giving Out What Music Is Within Me.

I Have A Rendezvous With Life.