Poetry Friday

I don't normally take part in Poetry Friday - other than Walt Whitman, I'm just not a fan - but I'm just feelin' it after the week I've had. Here's my contribution:

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?
~ Langston Hughes

I first read this poem in high school and, while I loved it then, I didn't "get it". Because most of what high school students are forced to read won't connect with them until later in life.

For the past two weeks, in particular, I have encountered the term "deferred dreams" many times and this poem kept drifting through my mind. And when something is speaking to you like that, you have to share it, right?


Beth S. said...

I adore Langston Hughes. This is the first poem I ever memorized without even having to try. I've just read it so many times that the words stuck in my brain with absolutely no effort.

Erin said...

Oh my. That is...powerful, and heavy, and good. Thank you for sharing it.

Beth Kephart said...