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, Dream Deferred in The Panther and the Lash, May 1967
Photo: workers at cashew nut processing unit, Goa, 2016
Stories from A Closet of Errors 
This is beautiful to me. I appreciate the poem and photo together. Thank you for sharing it.
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Thank you for stopping by ❤ I find it very beautiful too.
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