Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

When I was young,
I used
Watch behind the
As men walked up and down the street

A Rock,
A River,
A
Hosts to species long since departed,

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.

They have spent theircontent of simpering,holding their lips thisand that way, windingthe lines betweentheir brows
Old folksallow their bellies to jiggle like slowtambourines
The hollersrise up and spillover any way they want
When o...

There are some nights whensleep plays coy,aloof and disdainful
And all the wilesthat I employ to winits service to my sideare useless as wounded pride,and much more painful

Your skin like
Mine like
One paints the beginningof a certain end
The other, the end of asure beginning

A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends

Preacher, don't send mewhen I dieto some big ghettoin the skywhere rats eat catsof the leopard typeand Sunday brunchis grits and tripe
I've known those ratsI've seen them killand grits I've hadwould make a hill,or maybe a mountain,so what I n...

The night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark,
And the walls have been steep

Give me your
Make room for meto lead and followyoubeyond this rage of poetry
Let others havethe privacy oftouching wordsand love of lossof love
For

I note the obvious differencesin the human family
Some of us are serious,some thrive on comedy
Some declare their lives are livedas true profundity,and others claim they really livethe real reality
The variety of our skin tonescan c...