Road's In Front O' Me, Nothin' To

I Loved My Friend He Went Away From Me There's Nothing More To Say The Poem Ends, Soft As It Began- I Loved My Friend.

A Dream Deferred Is A Dream Denied.

We Younger Negro Artists Who Create Now Intend To Express Our Individual Dark-skinned Selves Without Fear Or Shame. If White People Are Pleased We Are Glad. If They Aren?t It Doesn?t Matter.

It's Such A Bore Being Always Poor.

Well, When Christ Comes Back This Time, I Hope He Comes Back Mad His Own Self. I Hope He Drives The Jim Crowers Out Of Their High Places, Every Living Last One Of Them From Washington To Texas.