What are my fears, my hopes, my dreams made of—
are they made of the softest silk or a
pile
of
bricks
strewn in the corner.
Are they made of the
lightest or
feathers clouds
or are they just as heavy and ugly as my fears.
What am I made of,
Am I made of anything at all?
I can't remember the last time I felt like
I am more than a test score,
an application, a list, a graph of numbers comparing me
and a thousand other students
just
like
me.
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 1:07 PM UTC
What are my fears, my hopes, my dreams made of—
are they made of the softest silk or a
pile
of
bricks
strewn in the corner.
Are they made of the
lightest or
feathers clouds
or are they just as heavy and ugly as my fears.
What am I made of,
Am I made of anything at all?
I can't remember the last time I felt like
I am more than a test score,
an application, a list, a graph of numbers comparing me
and a thousand other students
just
like
me.
