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I loved my friend He went away from me There's nothing more to say The poem ends, Soft as it began- I loved my friend.
Langston Hughes
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Langston Hughes
Age: 66 †
Born: 1901
Born: February 1
Died: 1967
Died: May 22
Biographer
Essayist
Journalist
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Joplin
Missouri
James Langston Hughes
James Mercer Langston Hughes
Loved
Went
Away
Ends
Nothing
Soft
Poem
Began
Friend
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Never look for a worm in the apple of your eye.
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Believing everything she read In the daily news, (No in-between to choose) She thought that only One side won, Not that BOTH Might lose.
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Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
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Hard as I try, daddy-o, I really do not like concert singers. They are always singing in some foreign language.
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It is the duty of the younger Negro artist . . . to change through the force of his art that old whispering I want to be white, hidden in the aspirations of his people, to Why should I want to be white? I am a Negro - and beautiful!
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I will not take but for an answer.
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One of the great difficulties about being a member of a minority race is that so many kindhearted, well-meaning bores gather around to help.
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The depression brought everybody down a peg or two. And the Negroes had but few pegs to fall.
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Good morning, Revolution: You're the very best friend I ever had. We gonna pal around together from now on
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To some people Love is given, To others Only Heaven.
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Blues had the pulse beat of the people who keep on going.
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Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think I suffer after I have held my pain So long? Because my mouth Is wide with laughter You do not hear My inner cry? Because my feet Are gay with dancing You do not know I die?
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When poems stop talking about the moon and begin to mention poverty, trade unions, color, color lines and colonies, somebody tells the police.
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I'm so tired of waiting, aren't you, for the world to become good and beautiful and kind?
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We Negro writers, just by being black, have been on the blacklist all our lives. Censorship for us begins at the color line.
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I stay cool, and dig all jive, That's the way I stay alive. My motto, as I live and learn, is Dig and be dug In return.
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Whiskey just naturally likes me but beer likes me better.
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Frosting Freedom Is just frosting On somebody else's Cake-- And so must be Till we Learn how to Bake.
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There is no color line in art.
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Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed - Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above.
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