By Chloe Boyd ’23
I want color on my walls and dreams in my head,
repeating numbers and dull facts? no, I want ideas instead
I want glue on my hands and collages half done
because if I have imagination I’ve already won
I want stories in my journals and characters in distraught
they’re only trying to understand the world that I’ve brought
I want poems beneath my pencil and school to go away
I’m honestly not sure how I survived a day
bother me in another way
I want paint on my fingers and art on my desk
even though you try to put me in with the rest,
my creativity is the one thing you cannot measure with a test