(Feature picture A-Monster-Calls-Illustration.jpg)
It really doesn’t matter how many Black History Months that come–I will always showcase this poem first or at least second. It is my personal favorites and one if not the greatest piece of poetic literature I ever read…
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?
By Langston Hughes
KG Bethlehem 