Tag: a raisin in the sun

Frustrated of late, I thought of Lorraine Hansberry’s play and then of Langston Hughes poem, Harlem: 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…