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Langston Hughes

Langston Hughes

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?

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To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening
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Well, son, I’ll tell you: Life for me ain’t been no crystal… It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up,
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She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,
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I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
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Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
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