Maia Nebula!

The world is sick, but my smile is intact.

Monday, October 11, 2010

A Dream Deferred

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

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home