When you’re young, you feel like you have forever until you’re no longer young like you were. How do you let life pass you by?

Hughes, a author and poet part of the Harlem Renaissance in the 20s during an era where being black was as harsh as a leather strap to your back side but yet as cool and serene as the cool humid breeze that blows in from up north. A deferred dream .. that’s the original poem. Even in this day and time, we all are .. deffered dreams that is.

Deep down in the jungle .. deep .. a Rose had to learn to walk without having its’ feat.

🌝😻