A Dream Postponed

Books piled up,

papers everywhere.

They’ll never burn,

or fly into the air.

 

Tassel hooked 

on the wall.

Not attached 

to a cap at all. 

 

Dress hanging 

from a door.

Never to dance 

on a fancy floor. 

 

Give it another

four years,

until this 

oppuruntiy reapears.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world

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