What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? ... Or does it explode?
Negroes - Sweet and docile, Meek, humble, and kind: Beware the day - They change their mind.
I will not take "but" for an answer.
It's such a Bore Being always Poor.
We Negro writers, just by being black, have been on the blacklist all our lives. Censorship for us begins at the color line.
Good evening, daddy! Ain't you heard The boogie-woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Trilling the treble And twining the bass Into midnight ruffles Of cat-gut lace.
I got the Weary Blues And I can't be satisfied.
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