In shadows deep, where voices rise, A dreamer stands with hopeful eyes, Langston sings of dreams deferred, In rhythms strong,…
In the quiet murmurs of Harlem’s streets, Where dreams and whispers softly meet, Langston’s pen danced with gentle grace, Sketching…
In the shadows of cotton fields, a voice arose, With words like rivers, flowing untamed, A tapestry woven with threads…
In Harlem’s heart, a voice did rise, With words that soared across the skies, Langston Hughes, with pen in hand,…
In Harlem’s heart, where whispers sing, Langston’s words, a gentle spring, Love’s embrace in every line, Dreams unfold, softly entwined.…
In the rhythm of his words, love found its form, A melody of hope in the darkest storm. He painted…
In the shadows of Harlem’s heart, A poet’s voice begins to rise, Echoes of dreams, of worlds apart, Carrying hope…
In the gentle sway of moonlit nights, Where whispers of dreams softly arise, A poet’s heart finds its tender light,…
In shadows cast by history’s weight, A voice emerged, both strong and bright. Langston spoke of dreams deferred, Of hopes…
In streets where dreams are often deferred, He painted pictures with his pen, A voice for those who were unheard,…