Langston Hughes, “Harlem”
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?(submitted by potatonutx)



Twitter and I haven’t been meshing for quite a while now. Lately its been a lot less social and a lot more media. Needless to say, the entertainment value of random, regular people is as unexciting as it sounds. This guy going on about some team sport I sincerely couldn’t give two shits about….
