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, The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes, Alfred A. Knopf, 1994.