Not a Number
Location
I am not a number.
I am not a rank out of my class, which is a bummer.
I am not a number on a four-point scale.
I am not just a student, and I like to rebel.
I am a person.
I spend my whole childhood worrying over petty things:
grades, projects, percentiles.
I do that so that I can go to college
and spend another four years or more
doing the same thing, gaining that knowledge.
My teacher, you know not how I feel.
School has changed, as the world has, since your time, as string on a wheel.
Classes are harder, more extensive,
at times we seem to lose all our senses.
I wish school would teach us how to learn,
memorizing my AP book won’t help be earn
money, which I will need to live,
but it will get me into college.
How about taxes?
I don’t know how that works.
When I’m on my own my wallet will hurt.
Can I do it all?
Will the sleepless nights
stress over approval
yearning for acceptance
in hopes of being seen as a person
be worth it?
I am not a number.