This is a poem …

Aside

This is a poem by one Langston Hughes, a famous African american poet from the early 20th Century.

Langston

Very thought provoking..

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?

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