Do they cradle a dream to their chest, minding its head as if it’s fragile neck would snap?
Do black men dream big?
Men hold fast to so many things,
Or at least I can’t imagine many of them knowing what it feels like to have a dream
Hold you back
I will never leave you
No matter how hard the future gets
That we will make it through and survive this thing called life,
So, deferred, what is it that becomes of them? They build or preach or teach. Men may accept a lesser reality, a shallow dream that isn’t sweet enough to satisfy anyone. A sliver at a time they accept the life they have come to live, and, every once in awhile, learn to silence the hope that builds up in their chest
-excerpt poem from my book in progress called ‘A Man Deferred’. Let us know what you think!
The headphones drown out the cries of the hungry as the train rages on like a metallic dragon. She is pretty. The homeless chick. Her voice booms even with the music turned up in my ears, leading me to believe she is well practiced in this art.