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Poem in the Style of "Theme For English B" by Langston Hughes

Here I sit,

Writing at my desk.

In a house on a quiet street in Lafayette.

In normal circumstances, I wake up

At 6:30 AM, before light has even hit the glass window panes,

Quickly scarf down a piece of toast, and run to catch my train.

At the end of the day I head to rehearsal. After I’m done

It is dark again.

So I take the quiet shuttle to catch my train,

Staring at the shadows the streetlamps make on the sidewalk, feeling oddly lonely,

Until I am home again.

But now all I do is sit at my desk

And write.

What do you do when stuck inside?

Nervously glance at the TV as raised voices discuss politics,

Eat Halloween candy until I think I’m going to be sick.

So much more alone now, but much less lonely.

I now have time for the things I like:

Biking, talking to friends, playing guitar, and listening to music.

I couldn’t play guitar before.

I also like to use my voice.

To laugh, winking at my friend as we jump into the frigid lake water, wishing summer wouldn’t end,

To sing, the beat of a song pounding in time with the beat of my heart,

To passionately express my beliefs to a room of people in my head.

The world before was brimming with people and a never-ending list of to-dos.

On my train, cramming for tests as the sunrise illuminated my page,

I only thought of where I had to be next.

I can’t take the train anymore, I don’t have anywhere to be.

So instead, my thoughts cloud my mind, forcing me to sit and ponder.

I look to the week ahead, no longer filled with desolation,

People using their voices to change the future.

I can’t wait until I’m one of them.


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