One of my students was reading the poem, Dream Deferred by Langston Hughes in class today. She was using it as a starting off point for her public speech assingmnent on "what I know for sure". As I was reading over her work, I was stopped in my place reading the poem. It is talking about me and what I am feeling right now.
Dream Deferred
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?
Langston Hughes
I emailed the nurse to ask for clarification as to the reasons for waiting the extra month. I explained that I am so fragile right now, and I think I will go crazy and obsessive (even more than I already am) if I get postponed yet again. I didn't win her over to my side. She again confirmed that the best thing for me to do was wait. Unfortunately, I don't have a choice. I need to wait, and I hate it.
Ok, this is just getting weird. I have to tell you that this is the fourth reference I have come across to this poem in a few weeks. First, my husband was being silly a few weeks ago, saying, "You can just call me Raisin Boy", referring to this poem. Then I was watching tv, I think it was Private Practice (which is a pretty bad show for us IFers to watch, but I like it anyway), and this couple on there had a son named Langston, because he was their dream deferred (they got married late and were lucky to have him, or something like that). Then I just found a copy of the poem in the photocopier in my department (I teach at a college) the other day. And now this. Pretty strange. And yes, it does pretty much sum up everything that we are feeling right now, doesn't it? I hope your dream won't be deferred much longer.
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