Oh, I love love LOVE Langston Hughes, and this is one of the poems that led me to discover him. The other one is '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?