If A Man Like Malcolm X Could

What America Demands In Her Black Champions Is A Brilliant, Powerful Body And A Dull, Bestial Mind.

They Use Force, To Make You Do, What The Deciders, Have Decided You Must Do.

And Why Does It Make You Sad To See How Everything Hangs By Such Thin And Whimsical Threads? Because You’re A Dreamer, An Incredible Dreamer, With A Tiny Spark Hidden Somewhere Inside You Which Cannot Die, Which Even You Cannot Kill Or Quench And Which Tortures You Horribly Because All The Odds Are Against Its Continual Burning. In The Midst Of The Foulest Decay And Putrid Savagery, This Spark Speaks To You Of Beauty, Of Human Warmth And Kindness, Of Goodness, Of Greatness, Of Heroism, Of Martyrdom, And It Speaks To You Of Love.

If God Himself Wills Such Misery On People Whom I Love, Then I Say I Will Deal With Him

If A Man Like Malcolm X Could Change And Repudiate Racism, If I Myself And Other Former Muslims Can Change, If Young Whites Can Change, Then There Is Hope For America.