May God heal any hurts in my heart,

Hold me in His loving arms,

And remind me that

I am loved incredibly.

Amen

  "Even the word Hopeless....

        ....isn't void of Hope"

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?

BY LANGSTON HUGHES