Road's In Front O' Me,

Well, Son, I'll Tell You: Life For Me Ain't Been No Crystal Stair. It's Had Tacks In It, And Splinters, And Boards Torn Up, And Places With No Carpet On The Floor -- Bare. But All The Time I'se Been A-climbin' On, And Reachin' Landin's, And Turnin' Corners, And Sometimes Goin' In The Dark Where There Ain't Been No Light. So Boy, Don't You Turn Back. Don't You Set Down On The Steps 'cause You Finds It's Kinder Hard. Don't You Fall Now -- For I'se Still Goin', Honey, I'se Still Climbin', And Life For Me Ain't Been No Crystal Stair.

I Am A Negro: Black As The Night Is Black, Black Like The Depths Of My Africa.

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.

Most Musicians Remain Poor. But The Music That They Make, Even If It Does Not Bring Them Millions, Gives Millions Of People Happiness.

Negro Writers, Just By Being Black, Have Been On The Blacklist All Our Lives. Do You Know That There Are Libraries In Our Country That Will Not Stock A Book By A Negro Writer, Not Even As A Gift? There Are Towns Where Negro Newspapers And Magazines Cannot Be Sold Except Surreptitiously. There Are American Magazines That Have Never Published Anything By Negroes. There Are Film Studios That Have Never Hired A Negro Writer. Censorship For Us Begins At The Color Line.