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The instructor said,

Go home and write

a page tonight.

And let that page come out of you—

Then, it will be true.

“Let that page come out of you”
out of me, but who is me?
I seem defined to others—
my friends and family
but to me, who’s me?
a giver? a reader? a friend?

How do I define me?
or do I have no choice?
am I who I choose to be?
or am I just as others see?

Maybe at 16 I’ll never know
perhaps it’s privileged, and
I’ll one day be shown
but until then I’ll wait
confused and misled
until an answer comes into my head





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forever_dancer said...
Apr. 13, 2009 at 1:36 am
oh, yes! of course.. i love Langston Hughes! quite nicely put!
 
EdytD said...
Apr. 12, 2009 at 8:48 pm
I like it - at first, I thought that it would be one of those poems that just say "I need to write a poem... blah blah blah... here it is!" but it turned out differently. Hughes writes about what he is, but you write about what defines you (which isn't the same thing).

I really like your poetry - I love the direct style; after reading it, I sit back and think, rather than simply moving on.
 
Hannah:] said...
Apr. 11, 2009 at 3:39 am
Thank you!
 
musicgirl757 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Apr. 10, 2009 at 4:10 pm
Nice, very clever
 
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