Deep in my breast -- the Negro mother. .
which I have for this fellow. And yet I can't get out of doing business.
I am the dark girl who crossed the red sea .
When frightened -- home to Thee I run --.
His workbook is wedged in the window,.
Something that shall endure longer even than lustrous Jupiter,.
As if all of the other kids in the cafeteria weren't even there..
Quite none?.
It might be the veil of a bride.
Her feet peek out from beneath the duvet..
for, working as he did rather for the love of his art than for the acquirement of wealth..
Dares keep down the children of the Negro Mother..
Longer than sun, or any revolving satellite, .
They were symmetrical without having a shape..