(118) Baltimore

Baltimore is on fire

nothing makes any sense

the lack of leadership

the lack of listening

the lack of answers

but even worse is

knowing

that when these words

were written

by Langston Hughes in

1951

we would be sitting here in

2015

bearing witness to the

reality that

little has changed:

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?

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