Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Harlem

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore-
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over-
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.


Or does it explode?



-Langston Hughes


Being myself is my dream deferred. Boom.

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