What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry
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 sagslike a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
It was the first poem Langston wrote, at the age of fourteen.
Ruben Silvers (artistic director in the 30's at Karamu House) gives this account: "I was in a business meeting with the Jelliffe's (founders of Karamu House Theatre) as a rambunctious young lad burst into the meeting asking that we read his poem. I insisted that he wait until we were done. Mrs.
Jelliffe said, "no read his poem". That poem was The Negro Speaks of Rivers, the poet was Langston Hughes". Renee Jackson (Poetryality)
