Here is the assignment


Amber 's poem

Nichole's Poem

Robert's Poem

Chirs_L's Poem

Matt's Poem

Taylor's poem

Peter's Poem

John's Poem

Trevor's poem

Abu's Poem

Tiffany's Poem

Skylar's Poem

Carina's Poem

Gina's Poem

John's Poem

Zach's Poem

Miro's Poem

Mark's Poem

Chris' Poem

Paul's Poem

Leah's Poem

Michael B's Poem

Jeanna's Poem

Lisa's Poem

Skye's Poem

Sara's Poem

Lauren's poem

JakeP's Poem

CJ's Poem

TJ's Poem

olzei's Poem

Ryan S's poem

Ryan's Poem

Nick's Poem

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I HEAR America singing, the varied carols I hear;
Those of mechanics—each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and strong;
The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work;
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat—the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck;
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench—the hatter singing as he stands;
The wood-cutter’s song—the ploughboy’s, on his way in the morning, or at the noon intermission, or at sundown;
The delicious singing of the mother—or of the young wife at work—or of the girl sewing or washing— Each singing what belongs to her, and to none else;
The day what belongs to the day—At night, the party of young fellows, robust, friendly, Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious song.
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I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.
Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--
I, too, am America