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Transcription: [00:09:48]
So Father God, I want you to hear me, and please, Father, consider this black boy's prayer. And build a high neon sign in heaven stating that you'll have no discrimination up there. Thank you. [[applause]]

[00:10:09]
Spoons, perhaps we should say a few words on the nature of that - that poem itself. How long ago was it that you put that together?

[00:10:23]
Well, let me exactly think with you. The poem was written I'd say when I was about...oh about 15 years old. And like I say, I was afraid to recite this poem. Numbers of times I've had an opportunity to do so. But I was afraid of what the circumstances might have been after reciting it. You are the one that stopped and said, "Go ahead and say it Spoon, Say it" And uh, it's a pleasure to say it. But behind that, I would like to leave this thought in everyone's mind. I have never been prejudiced, but I've always been fast. You know. On the feet, running and ducking, and dodging and hiding. I had to be fast in order to survive.

[00:11:22]
Uh, If I may, I would like to recite another poem to you. It's of a different character. This has to do with my experience during the Second World War. The title of this poem is, My Saddest Experience.

[00:11:49]
You know, the saddest experience that I've ever had
It was on one Christmas day
A mother with three of her small children went kneeling down to pray
And near them, was her dying infant, and I, a soldier, stood by.
I could hear the deadly sounds of bombs as they dropped down from the sky.
My god, I heard that mother say,
But this be none our fault, yet here lie dying is my infant baby who had not yet learned to walk.
And he bore no homes against any nations.
He knew nothing of a command.
A baby bottle was all he held in his tiny hands.
[00:12:34]
And then my tears came streaming down, but not because of fate.
but because those words that mother spoke, I knew so well was right.
For every child from his mother's womb be that mother's greatest delight
And Man has no right to take up blessings and teach it to kill or fight.
Well, slowly, I moved towards that heartbroken mother,
But her words pierced me through and through.
"Away with you, young soldier," she said," for you are a killer, too!"
[00:13:12]
And that hurt me so, you will never know
Because at one time, oh, I was so proud.
I tell you I sported my medals for all to see.
I was a hero to the crowds.
But what really made it hurt so bad was all my glory and my great pride, I tell you
It left my heart a burning hell, I had won them through a baby that died.