This document is a poem that contrasts the American dream of freedom and equality with the reality of institutional racism and inequality experienced by African Americans. The poem references Langston Hughes' poem "Let America Be America Again" and notes that America has never lived up to its ideals of freedom and equality for black Americans, who remain trapped in poverty and inequality despite the dream of being able to determine their own destiny.
This document is a poem that contrasts the American dream of freedom and equality with the reality of institutional racism and inequality experienced by African Americans. The poem references Langston Hughes' poem "Let America Be America Again" and notes that America has never lived up to its ideals of freedom and equality for black Americans, who remain trapped in poverty and inequality despite the dream of being able to determine their own destiny.
This document is a poem that contrasts the American dream of freedom and equality with the reality of institutional racism and inequality experienced by African Americans. The poem references Langston Hughes' poem "Let America Be America Again" and notes that America has never lived up to its ideals of freedom and equality for black Americans, who remain trapped in poverty and inequality despite the dream of being able to determine their own destiny.
Let America be America again Let it be the dream it used to be Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free What does money have to do with it Im trapped inside the ghetto and I aint proud to admit it Institutionalized, I keep running back for a visit America was never America to me Theres never been equality for me Nor freedom in this homeland of the free I said Im trapped inside the ghetto and I aint proud to admit it Institutionalized Life is like a box of chocolates Tangled in the endless chain Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land Be all you can be, true, but the problem is A dream only a dream if work dont follow it Shit dont change until you get up and wipe yo ass, boy I am the Negro, servant to you all I am the people, humble, hungry, mean-And torn from Black Africas strand I came To build a homeland of the free The free? O yes, I say it plain America was never America to me