Beautiful Disaster
What happens to a dream deferred?
(A response to Langston Hughes “Dream Deferred”)
What happens to a dream deferred?
Is it a flower
Wilting in the sun
Just needing some water
Ignored by everyone
Is it wiped away
Like a trickling tear
Ignored
Like your worst fear
Does it get lost
In a perpetual sea
Of deferred dreams
Longing to be free
Does it twinkle
Like a star in the sky
With an enticing twinkle
That is obviously too high
Does it blend
Into the drone around
Losing its own
Unique sound
Is it tossed out
With the weekly trash
…
Is it set on the curb
With the recycling bin
Locked out
Forbidden to come in
Is it like a pen
Without ink
Unable to express
What it thinks
Is it like a candle
In a dark night
Powerless
Until given light
Is it like thoughts
Never spoken
And ideas
Never written
Is it an old picture
Faded and torn
Like a favorite dress
Tattered and worn
Does it roam aimlessly
Like a stranger to your mind
Or a lost child
Left behind
Does it sink to the bottom of your heart
There to remain
Left there to
Subconsciously reign
Is it like an abandoned road
Within a ghost town
Ever-present
But never traveled down
Is it like nature's beauty
Glistening in its prime
Only appreciated
By those that take the time.
Is it like the scenic route
Always available, but rarely taken
Bypassed to
Save time, beauty forsaken
What happens to a dream deferred?
Is it a flower
Wilting in the sun
Just needing some water
Ignored by everyone
Is it wiped away
Like a trickling tear
Ignored
Like your worst fear
Does it get lost
In a perpetual sea
Of deferred dreams
Longing to be free
Does it twinkle
Like a star in the sky
With an enticing twinkle
That is obviously too high
Does it blend
Into the drone around
Losing its own
Unique sound
Is it tossed out
With the weekly trash
…
Is it set on the curb
With the recycling bin
Locked out
Forbidden to come in
Is it like a pen
Without ink
Unable to express
What it thinks
Is it like a candle
In a dark night
Powerless
Until given light
Is it like thoughts
Never spoken
And ideas
Never written
Is it an old picture
Faded and torn
Like a favorite dress
Tattered and worn
Does it roam aimlessly
Like a stranger to your mind
Or a lost child
Left behind
Does it sink to the bottom of your heart
There to remain
Left there to
Subconsciously reign
Is it like an abandoned road
Within a ghost town
Ever-present
But never traveled down
Is it like nature's beauty
Glistening in its prime
Only appreciated
By those that take the time.
Is it like the scenic route
Always available, but rarely taken
Bypassed to
Save time, beauty forsaken
