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?

Every starry night
I look for your face.
Four imaginary lines
connecting five glimmering dots.

I relive the summers passed;
when I would look up, see you,
and know something was missing--
like Orion's Belt.

Come winter, when he returned,
he must have made you cold--
because I felt it too.
I moved away,
but ever in the sky you'd stay.

Every starry night
I look for your face.
Some call you Cassiopeia;
however, the beauty marks I know,
belong to one of another name.

I heard someone say
"it's going to be my first marriage,"
today. God, how sad.

she had long hair
that fell like ragweeds
across skin of soil
measuring deep.
the water came and eroded her lips away
and the seaweed got stuck in her throat
so she looks on with wide owl eyes
silent as falling snow.

I swear I've seen you twice
Once was on a train
You sat next to me and asked me my name
You told a man to take his feet off the seat
You were considerate of others and very sweet
You gave me a pin in the shape of an Angel
You said it would keep me safe and that they would follow me wherever I go
You were an old woman
But you're expression was bright
Your ora gave off a luminous light
You were beautiful
You filled my heart with joy
My day had been long
And I had been coy

I saw you again on a mountain
I was night hiking alone
I had to get away
Like the last time you saw me, I'd had a bad day
I went to the mountain praying for death
I cried to the heavens with all the energy I had left
I said to God, set me free, for I have no more faith in me
I was in an open field and across the way I saw something move
It was an animal in the light of the moon
I'm not sure what animal you were
But it looked at me from a distance, that I'm sure

We glared at eachother
I looked you in your glowing eye
And for some reason I no longer wanted to cry
The hole in my heart had somehow been filled
A helper of the Lord had been revealed
I wanted to walk toward you
But I was afraid
I felt death would be a mistake I could have made
I walked the other way
That I regret
You weren't afraid of me
You didn't fret

I believe in you
I know you believe in me
You are beautiful
You brought out the beauty I now see
The world is cruel
Growing up is intense
When you saw me last I was sitting on the fence
Life or death
Hope or dispare
You rescued me
I know you were there.

the poet in me is quiet now
no longer does he sing words
of love and whisper songs of
passion, no longer does the
drive to create pull at my feet
and walk me into the pit of
fresh reality, no longer does
the relief come when the word
emerges on the page, instead
there is only dissatisfaction and
sadness.

the poet in me must have left
no longer friends with the beat
of my heart, no longer in tune
with the secret channels my mind
broadcasts, no longer demanding
me to feel that which I refuse to
even acknowledge, no longer
there reminding me that I am
more than a body of flesh and
blood.

the poet in me is dead or gone
no longer putting up a fight with
the destructive order of my soul,
no longer bringing out the human
side of my heart, no longer engaging
all of my brain, no longer pushing me
to be more than I am expected to,
no longer making me sing and
talk and believe in myself, no
he is too good for that now.

the poet in me is quiet now
and all we have left is his pen
and our memory.