passion– or a dream– deferred

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?

So i’m probably stealing Hughes’ poem. But at least I am crediting it.

I was thinking about that poem because of the “Fear saps passion” phrase from yesterday.

If I am full of passion, but I am afraid, isn’t that a hope deferred?

Yes. Yes. Yes, it is. And a hope deferred is a dream deferred.

I had a reason to think of Charlie Brown and Lucy, with their football trick today.

“Come on, Charlie Brown! I’ll hold the football for you!”

and he falls for it every time. He puts all this passion into running, and the dream gets deferred.

and he lands on his butt.

It is NOT the fault of his passion. It is NOT the fault of the dream.

Everyone knows that it’s Lucy. Anyone can tell it’s Lucy whisking the goal out of reach.

How many times do I blame myself?

“I should have snuck up on the football, acted all casual…then I would have had my chance to kick it out of the sky!”

It is NOT my fault. It was never my fault.

I have to find a new person to hold the football. And if I want to kick that football, I have to keep looking until I find that someone.