What Did I Do? I

But Now, Like A Fallen Sparrow On A Golden Chain, I'm Forever Bound In Shadow, A Prisoner To My Pain.

The Idea Of Voluntary Segregation Went Against Every Value I Had Been Taught. What Did Being Born Black Have To Do With Excellence?

Yeah, That's Funny, Huh?...something Hurts You Real Bad And You Get Used To It. Like Being Hurt Becomes Part Of Who You Are.

If Anyone Could Look Into My Head See Or Feel The Dread That Has Captured Me Or See Within This Sad, Unhappy Brain They Would Only Turn Away Turn Away.

I Keep Threatening To Keep A Formal Journal, But Whenever I Start One It Instantly Becomes An Exercise In Self-consciousness. Instead Of A Journal I Manage To Have Dozens Of Notebooks With Bits And Pieces Of Stories, Poems, And Notes. Almost Every Thing I Do Has Its Beginning In A Notebook Of Some Sort, Usually Written On A Bus Or Train.