Old Man.../I, Too

Murder...

I am the old man
With the golden gun,
And the peppery beard
Who has no son.
With thoughts so sad,
And tears in my eyes.
I have no fear
Of the martyr’s flies.
The gun still warm
My hands still hot
With the blood of a seed
As he starts to rot.
I am the old man
With the golden gun
And the peppery beard
Whose cry goes on.

I, Too
Inspired by Langston Huges

I, too, sing America.

I am the invisible man.
They send me to the corner of the room
When no one notices,
But I am always there,
And no one sees,
And I see all.

Tomorrow,
I’ll appear again.
Nobody’ll dare say to me,
“Where did you come from?”
Then.

Besides,
They’ll see I was always listening
And be totally embarrassed-

I, too, am America.