kyra1
14 mar 24
DeRank ™: 3,00
the weary blues, part of a poem by Langston Hughes 1925-
With a deep singing voice and a melancholy tone
I heard the negro singing, groaning that old piano:
"I have nobody in the world,
nobody except me.
I will stretch the wrinkles of my forehead
and the troubles I will lay on the sideboard."
Tump tump tump went his foot on the floor.
He struck a few chords, and sang again:
"Melancholies of weariness:
I cannot resign myself.
Melancholies of weariness:
I cannot resign myself.
I am no longer happy
and I wish I were dead."
With a deep singing voice and a melancholy tone
I heard the negro singing, groaning that old piano:
"I have nobody in the world,
nobody except me.
I will stretch the wrinkles of my forehead
and the troubles I will lay on the sideboard."
Tump tump tump went his foot on the floor.
He struck a few chords, and sang again:
"Melancholies of weariness:
I cannot resign myself.
Melancholies of weariness:
I cannot resign myself.
I am no longer happy
and I wish I were dead."
DeBaser says
right now