I’m So Sorry, Langston

it pains me to think of you
philosophically festering in your grave
a dream I deem deferred
a utopian world unrealized
and you still steadily holding on
with bony brittle fingers
unable to let it die

would april 4, 1968
have been enough
for it to explode
or would the million men marching in 1995
and the election of president obama
allowed you to hold tight
grasping what could be and what should be
enough hope to pave sweet freedom's way

i've seen more broken-winged birds
than peace doves
we are still in the streets rioting
over white and black
long past the civil rights movement
long past what was expected
have you crusted and sugared over yet
i'm so sorry, Langston

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