romancing the stone
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.
i wrote that poem when i was in first grade. some people think langston hughes wrote it. but they're wrong. i'm the greatest african-american poet that ever lived. just ask my mama.
well, you could ask if she was still alive. i'll never forget her dying words:
"make mama proud, baby."
well, mama -- are you proud? are you proud that i've created a living by reproducing, er, creating some of the greatest poetry every spoken.
of course not, mama. 'cuz you is a bitch. you is a illiterate bitch. you wouldn't even teach me how to mark my name in school.
it's all your fault. you're the reason i can't write my own poetry.
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.
i wrote that poem when i was in first grade. some people think langston hughes wrote it. but they're wrong. i'm the greatest african-american poet that ever lived. just ask my mama.
well, you could ask if she was still alive. i'll never forget her dying words:
"make mama proud, baby."
well, mama -- are you proud? are you proud that i've created a living by reproducing, er, creating some of the greatest poetry every spoken.
of course not, mama. 'cuz you is a bitch. you is a illiterate bitch. you wouldn't even teach me how to mark my name in school.
it's all your fault. you're the reason i can't write my own poetry.