A Dream Deferred
By Langston Hughes
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–syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
A response:
This young girl comes from a long line of dreamers.
Many of whom held vaporized dreams.
They blamed manmade ills or the sun or the rain.
Dreams shriveled up like Langston’s raisins.
Shriveled up for fear.
Not fear of what could not be, but fear of what could.
The truth is they could have been their truest self, if they followed their truest self.
They chose the wide road instead.
And like Langston said, exploded.
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