"personal rendition of 'theme for English b' by Langston Hughes"
My instructor said,
Go home and write
A page tonight.
And let that page come out of you-
Then, it will be true.
Is this the way I should feel?
I am you, impressionable, and invalidated.
I lived here then there, leaving pieces
Of who I am in the people and places I went.
Today I will go to a classroom, walk down the worn-out stairs,
Through crowded corridors and past faces without names.
I will walk into a room full of potential friends, lovers, and enemies,
I will sit down, and I will write this page:
It’s not easy being so empty,
At fifteen, my age. The clock has not run out but
I find myself out of pieces to leave behind.
Soon I will become the things around me. I will become
Textbooks, assignments, and tests. They will consume me.
I want to be able to sleep, write, and fall in love.
I want to admire the way the leaves fall and candles burn,
I want to love music- Indie, Alt., Rap, and Rock- but
I will do nothing more than be a number.
A test score, a due date, a GPA.
I will be defined by a class rank instead of
A personality. Will my score on a test reflect
Who I am or who I will be?
Will my net worth mean more to my lover
Than my self-worth?
I will ask those questions,
Demand their answers, but
I won’t accept their truths, because
When I run out of questions
What will I become?
What will I want to become?
When there is nothing left
For me to question, to long to understand
That will be the end.
So in this classroom, I will sit, for
This is my page for AP Lit.