Harlem Bianca Alysse October 2, 2014 Arts & Entertainment, Poetry 4 Comments 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? By Langston Hughes (February 1, 1902 – May 22, 1967) 4 Responses Percy Samuel October 2nd, 2014 You’re cultured. Reply Tammy October 2nd, 2014 i had to recite this is class once Reply Yvette October 2nd, 2014 This is a testament to why people should never give up Reply Julez October 3rd, 2014 Wasn’t big on poetry but I didn’t mind studying him in school. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published. Name* Email* Website Comment
