All My Skinfolk Ain't Kinfolk.

To Me, Bitterness Is The Under-arm Odor Of Wishful Weakness. It Is The Graceless Acknowledgment Of Defeat.

I Feel Most Colored When I Am Thrown Against A Sharp White Background........beside The Waters Of The Hudson" I Feel My Race. Among The Thousand White Persons, I Am A Dark Rock Surged Upon, And Overswept, But Through It All, I Remain Myself. When Covered By The Waters, I Am; And The Ebb But Reveals Me Again." How It Feels To Be Colored Me

So She Sat On The Porch And Watched The Moon Rise. Soon Its Amber Fluid Was Drenching The Earth, And Quenching The Thirst Of The Day.

If It Was So Honorable And Glorious To Be Black, Why Was It The Yellow-skinned People Among Us Had So Much Prestige?

I Thought That When They Said Atlantic Charter, That Meant Me And Everybody In Africa And Asia And Everywhere. But It Seems Like The Atlantic Is An Ocean That Does Not Touch Anywhere But North America And Europe.