Wednesday, 4 November 2009

'Raisin' Illusions or 'Raisin' Revolution?

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry uplike 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?

- Harlem, by Langston Hughes 1951

None but ourselves can free us...

3 comments:

(im)perfect_black ☥☥☥ said...

Uhuru!!!

lincolnperry said...

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KonWomyn said...

Hey Lincoln
Thanks for checking out my blog - Lol! I guess in sme ways great minds think alike .