Langston is writing a poem about someone who feels that America does not live up to what it should be. The tone is angry and resentful. He points to the people who’ve come here with hopes and dreams and they’re being let down. He’s also saying that there is an economic disparity between people. In essence, the rich get richer, and the poor get poorer, because there is not eq”Let America Be America Again” Summary
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.

America never was America to me.

Let America be the dream the dreamers. Let it be that great strong land of love. Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme. That any man be crushed by one above.It never was America to me.

O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe.

There’s never been equality for me, Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars? I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, i am the black man bearing slavery’s scars.I am the red man driven from the land, I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—And finding only the same old stupid plan. Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope, Tangled in that ancient endless chain Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!

Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need! Of work the men! Of take the pay! Of owning everything for one’s own greed!I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil. I am the worker sold to the machine. I am the black man, servant to you all. I am the people, humble, hungry, mean— Hungry yet today despite the dream. Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers!

I am the man who never got ahead, The poorest worker bartered through the years. Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream In the Old World while still a serf of kings, Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true, That even yet its mighty daring sings In every brick and stone, in every furrow turnedual opportunity. NOTE: This is borrowed