It is time for the gentle to move over and for the unoffending to admit that they have failed. A black revolution is upon us. Black people will now take their destiny into their own hands. They will not wait. They will not go slowly. They will not say, Thank you kindly. They will not look down politely at the floor.

They will save their children from the murder that the people in this audience (as citizens of Massachusetts) have unpardonably permitted--and they will not listen when you tell them to go slow.

There is a strong poem written by a black poet and it is a poem from which I would like to read to you. The name of the poem is DEMOCRACY. The man who wrote the poem was Langston Hughes. He speaks of the white people who tell him to go slowly. He says this is a thing he cannot do. His people are dying. His life has been a prison. His skin has marked him forever as a man who was not free to live and breathe. He is not sure what Democracy should mean--but he knows he does not have it.

Democracy will not come

Today, this year

Nor ever

Through compromise and fear.

I have as much right

As the other fellow has

To stand

On my two feet

And own the land.

I tire so of hearing people say,

Let things take their course.

Tomorrow is another day.