What happens to a dream deferred?
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and
I met a traveler from an antique land.
It is an ancient mariner:
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done; but
April is the cruelest month.
It was many and many a year ago
I wandered lonely as a cloud.
Once upon a midnight dreary,
Out of the night that covers me,
I have seen the greatest minds of my generation
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Turning and turning in the widening gyre.
The sea is calm tonight.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Some say the world will end in fire.
I sing of warfare and a man at war.
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