"Burial of a Dream": a poem

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What happens, after all, to a dream deferred?

…Is it buried, like a flower on a coffin?...

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Tearful,

I get up from my dream-garden,

gathering my favorites like flowers,

and take them all to bed with me,

arranged around my body like pillows,

supporting me, comforting me.

I lament that they can never be more than this:

sentimental support in a lonely time.

No more…

That’s how I am buried, then,

with pillows of old, befriended dreams

around me, a coronation

of blossoms, best for grieving.

Like flowers, they were gathered with joy.

Now, like flowers, they are buried with sorrow.

©Ellen H.

...The above is an ode, of course, to a famous poem:

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A Dream Deferred

by Langston Hughes

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?