Right now I am scrambling for scholarships for graduate school. Most of the times it feels like I'm shooting in the dark. I mean, how many other people are entering the random drawing for $10,000? What am I up against? What are my chances? Who knows. But..I came across something that seemed right up my ally. It was a short essay scholarship about relations between America and the Middle East. Well, since that is exactly what I want to do, to be a sort of bridge between the two, I grabbed at it. The theme was to be centered around this poem, which was equally fitting for my life story. I thought you might enjoy it...
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?
-Langston Hughes, 1951
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