In the heart of Harlem, where dreams ignite,
Langston Hughes weaves words in the night,
His voice, a beacon for the oppressed,
Guiding souls with hope expressed.

Through rivers of sorrow and hills of pain,
His poetry flows like an endless rain,
A symphony of struggles, a melody of grace,
Hughes paints the story of the race.

From cotton fields to urban streets,
His verses echo the people’s beats,
Breaking chains with every rhyme,
Transcending the boundaries of time.

Injustice fought with pen in hand,
A legacy carved in the land,
Langston Hughes, a guiding light,
In the endless journey for what is right.