2 Train, 96th Street to 14th Street Station, March 3, 2016
Her poise and grace drew me to her. I knew that she had a poem, but she wasn’t so sure about it: “I can try.”
I usually read the poem after we separate, and the writer has been swept away by the train or vice versa. I have no one to talk to, to share my happiness upon reading something as candid and thoughtful as this. In turn, I shared it with my freshman class when I arrived at my destination.
Not knowing where I’ll be in four years
wondering if I’m taking the right classes
making connections that last life times
I stop and look in the mirror
walking through a campus with brilliant individuals
feeling a part of something big, yet feeling alone
smiling at all children and families on evening walks
I stop and look in the mirror
laughing out the stress of midterms
spinning out my insecurities
admiring those making a difference in the world
I stop and look in the mirror
what I see looking back at me
is a college freshman finding herself
in the big City of New York
I’m here to make an impact
Here to live and love
Here to be me.