'Harlem' - Poem by Bethany Williams
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?
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
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Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
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