Higher Arts

May 3, 2009
By flightofnessa BRONZE, Cary, North Carolina
flightofnessa BRONZE, Cary, North Carolina
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

She sits there, confused, because words are her blood and numbers are not her beat.
She sits there crying inside, because she feels stupid and betrayed for not knowing the magic formula, for not knowing how the ten strange symbols clicked and interlocked.
She sits there bewildered at how these numbers interact so skillfully and yet so harshly. There is no room for imagination or fault. But there is no perfection in writing.
She sits there.
She writes.
And the numbers can march but her words, her emotion; they dance and interlock in ways that can't be printed without feeling, without though, or converted to something yet retain meaning. And she knows, even if she cannot understand the march of numbers, that she has mastered the higher art.

The author's comments:
This is most certainly how I feel in math class every day, and how I make myself feel better for not quite knowing, or really wanting to know, the march of the numbers.

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This article has 2 comments.

on May. 15 2009 at 10:46 pm
sillyrabbit GOLD, St.louis, Missouri
15 articles 0 photos 49 comments
<3 Amazing,Brilliant,Beautiful and every other compliment in the world!! This is amazing!!

Whitney GOLD said...
on May. 15 2009 at 5:05 pm
Whitney GOLD, Carlisle, Indiana
11 articles 17 photos 13 comments
Wow. This is definitely one of my favorites. My dad is always mad because I never have good grades, I am too focused on my writing. That's all I do. Great poem, would love to read more from you.

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