"Harlem", 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?