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I, too, am an Outsider after Langston. . .

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I, Too, am an Outsider
After Langston Hughes

I am the lesser-than, not-golden daughter.
They send me to eat hidden in my room
When my brother is home,
And I weep
And eat poorly
But still grow strong.

Tomorrow
I’ll be somewhere else –
My place at the park
At a picnic table,
Writing to my heart’s content.
They won’t dare
Say to me,
“Eat in your room.”

Someday, maybe,
They’ll know how I carry myself,
And be surprised.
I, too, am an outsider.

Are you too?

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I, too, am an Outsider after Langston. . .