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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"The moon is a disc of silver, the stars are tiny diamonds, and the night is a black velvet cloth."
"I tire so of hearing people say, Let things take their course. Tomorrow is another day. I do not need my freedom when I'm dead. I cannot live on tomorrow's bread."
"I have been a stranger in a strange land."
"I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh, And eat well, And grow strong. Tomorrow, I'll be at the table When company comes. Nob…"
"The past has been a mint of blood and sorrow. That must not be true of tomorrow."
From his poem 'Harlem' (also known as 'A Dream Deferred'), exploring the vivid, almost grotesque, and unsettling consequences of racial injustice and postponed hopes for African Americans.
Date: 1951
InspirationalFound in 2 providers: gemini,grok
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