Harlem
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—
   like a syrupy sweet?

   Maybe it just sags
   like a heavy load.

   Or does it explode?