What happens to a dream deferred?

Dream Deferred: Harlem
Langston Hughes (1902 - 1967)


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?



This is my favorite poem right now. It's been on my mind for the past week or so. I was thinking about it a lot last night and again when I woke up this morning. I thought it would be a good idea to share it in hopes of somehow releasing it so my mind is able to make room for another poem. Hmmm, I think that sounds a little bit crazy. Come to think of it, I've been proffering a lot of crazy to those closest to me as of late. So to my dear friends and family, I sincerely apologize. I promise to go back to my normal abnormal self as soon as possible. Student teaching will come to a close in about two weeks, so that should help. In fact, the only reason I have the energy to add this blog post is because I've been able to catch up on my sleep for the past couple days due to the junior high's Spring Break. I love Spring Break! I FINALLY got some snowboarding in for this season. I went up on Thursday, and the snow was great. I hope to go up again on Monday. Life is good when you're able to sleep in a little every now and then.