A poem I would like to share with you for Black History Month! In light of Mr. Langston Hughes’ “Dream Deferred” I wrote a response from current times! I know you’ll love reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
“What happens to a dream deferred?”
It became life as I know, Mr. Hughes.
It flew and soared like a bird.
I came to tell you the news.
I’m a credible source.
You and I wear the same shoes.
At times, it was desiccated.
Dry, like Arizona desert sand.
But now it’s hydrated.
A dream blacks did demand.
It used to be a bubbling sore
Or the pain of a deep wound.
But it is stiff, and hard as a floor.
It is bold and fine-tuned.
In the early 1900s blacks could only dream
Of what we now can do.
I know in your time it’d never seem
But I tell you it’s true.
The dream is candied.
I wish you could live now to see
It doesn’t smell like rotten meat.
Oh, how I wish you could see.
Racism still boldly exists.
Some souls still hate us.
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