Author Langston Hughes All day in the sun That he loved so He sat, Feeling life go. All night in bed Waiting for sleep He lay, Feeling death creep— Creeping like fire Creeping like fire from a slow spark Choking his breath And burning the dark. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 4.5 (2 votes) Rate Log in or register to post comments