A Dream Deferred, by Langston Hughes
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?
Friday, January 18, 2008
FAITH FORWARD FRIDAY: DREAMS NO LONGER DEFERRED
I am finding my voice in writing. This blog has really been good for me. It has allowed me to dream of writing as a reality and not a fairy-tale. I can write. I am stepping into that fact. I am owning that I have writing ability. I am no longer going to shy away from any talent. I am not going to undersell myself on any level anymore. I can write. I can dream. I can be. So I am wearing my newfound confidence. I am not just trying it on, I am buying it and wearing it out the door. I am coming into my full woman-ness and I ain't running from it. So today I am posting one of my favorite poems: