Langston Hughes

Good morning, daddy
Ain't you
The boogie-woogie
Of a dream deferred

To fling my arms wide
In some place of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.

My old man’s a white old man
And my old mother’s black.
If ever I cursed my white old man
I take my curses back.

I know I
The Negro
Being wined and dined,
Answering the usual

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

By what
The white kidsI ain't sent:
I know I
Be President

What happens to a dream deferred
Does it dry
Like a raisin in the sun
Or fester like a sore—And then run

Goin’ down the road,
Lawd,
Goin’ down the road
Down the road,

When I get to be a composerI'm gonna write me some music
Daybreak in
And I'm gonna put the purtiest songs in
Rising out of the ground like a swamp

Let the rain kiss
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid
Let the rain sing you a
The rain makes still pools on the

Clean the spittoons, boy.
Detroit,
Chicago,
Atlantic City,

Democracy will not
Today, this year   Nor
Through compromise and fear
I have as much right As the other fellow has  To