He was born in Alabama. <br />He was bred in Illinois. <br />He was nothing but a <br />Plain black boy. <br /> <br />Swing low swing low sweet sweet chariot. <br />Nothing but a plain black boy. <br /> <br />Drive him past the Pool Hall. <br />Drive him past the Show. <br />Blind within his casket, <br />But maybe he will know. <br /> <br />Down through Forty-seventh Street: <br />Underneath the L, <br />And Northwest Corner, Prairie, <br />That he loved so well. <br /> <br />Don’t forget the Dance Halls— <br />Warwick and Savoy, <br />Where he picked his women, where <br />He drank his liquid joy. <br /> <br />Born in Alabama. <br />Bred in Illinois. <br />He was nothing but a <br />Plain black boy. <br /> <br />Swing low swing low sweet sweet chariot. <br />Nothing but a plain black boy.<br /><br />Gwendolyn Brooks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/of-de-witt-williams-on-his-way-to-lincoln-cemetery/
