a dream deferred?

Right now i am processing a lot, a whole lot.  The post titled "not quite winter, not quite fall..." was only a preface to the uncertainty that is at hand now.  Dang, I thought I wasn't sure of much about a week ago, but I am really not sure of much right now.  I am mourning and grieving the loss of so many things... one of the most difficult being the death of a dream.  Does a dream die...?

It sure feels as though it has died.

The classic Langston Hughes poem came to mind today - most know it from A Raisin in the Sun.  I remember being so drawn in to the journey of the character's struggles when reading the play in high school, and I still have to laugh at the thought of my dad being volunteered by my omi to be a part of the cast when he lived in Austria as a young boy.  And now, the same poem greets me today.  What happens to a dream?

Here's the poem...

A Dream Deferred

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?