In the shadows of cotton fields, a voice arose,
With words like rivers, flowing untamed,
A tapestry woven with threads of hope,
Langston’s echoes, a heritage proclaimed.

He sang of dreams deferred, yet never lost,
In the heartbeats of Harlem’s vibrant streets,
A symphony of resilience and grace,
Where history and future seamlessly meet.

Through struggles and triumphs, his pen did glide,
Painting portraits of a race’s enduring fight,
In every stanza, a beacon of pride,
Illuminating paths with poetic light.

Yet beyond the sorrow, a dream he spun,
Where unity and equality would reign,
His verses, a call for justice begun,
In the realm of words, he broke every chain.