Dear Langston

Son
Your Daddy don't wanna be here no more
Come with me
To a whole other place
Where the people see more
Than a man only good to
Do his dirty chores
Run with me, son
'Cuz you'll never break free
Whites think you're stupid
Negroes think you're ugly
Your Mama, she's met another man
And you don't fit in
To his and her plans

Young man
You negroes are blessed
With the gift of rhythm and rhyme
It is fresh and exciting, and
We're looking for a good time
But, just one thing, boy
We don't understand
You're always about
The negro man
Enlighten us with something new
We know all about
Your people and you

Hey Jack
What is wrong with you
All of your preaching
Of beauty and pride
When I look at the golden boson
All I see is the dirty tide
I don't hear no tom-tom laughs
How can you presume, with your
White picket fence around your green grass
To pick up that pen in your smooth hands
That you could speak for
Mr. Every Day Black Man

All these years later
You still light the fire
From parent to child
The gift to inspire
Dear Mr. Langston Hughes
I'm sorry for
Your weary blues