Sunday Poetry: I, Too by Langston Hughes

“I like it when a flower or a little tuft of grass grows through a crack in the concrete. It’s so fuckin’ heroic.” George Carlin

When will the state-sanctioned killing of black people in this country stop? What is it in the DNA of white people born in the U.S. that allows them to cast their eye away from the senseless killing of our neighbors, our friends? How can we keep looking away from this injustice, this extermination of black people?

We are headed towards revolution, and I know which side I am on. It scares the shit out of me to think on it, but I would die if it meant equality and justice for black people. If one of us isn’t free, then none of us are free. 

I, Too

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
Then.

Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—

I, too, am America.