Harlem By Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up      
like a raisin in the sun?      
Or fester like a sore—      
And then run?      
Does it stink like rotten meat?      
Or crust and sugar over—      
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags      
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

I, Too By Langston Hughes

I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow, I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare Say to me, “Eat in the kitchen,”
Besides, They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—
I, too, am America.

Remember By Langston Hughes

The days of bondage—
And remembering—
Do not stand still.
Go to the highest hill
And look down upon the town
Where you are yet a slave.
Look down upon any town in Carolina
Or any town in Maine, for that matter,
Or Africa, your homeland—
And you will see what I mean for you to see—             
The white hand:             
The thieving hand.             
The white face:             
The lying face.             
The white power:             
The unscrupulous power
That makes of you
The hungry wretched thing you are today.

Leave a Reply.