Reading Standards for Literature > Form and Structure in Literature (CCSS.RL.7.5) Practice Test

1 Snow stacks thick across the silent street, 2 It seals the doors and stops the morning train, 3 It hides the path beneath a level sheet, 4 It freezes plans and numbs my busy brain, 5 I mutter that the sky has locked us in, 6 The clock runs on while I stand stuck in place, 7 My errands shrink, my patience thins and thins, 8 The day feels lost, a blank and empty space, 9 Yet when the clouds break, light redraws the town, 10 Footprints sketch a map I never saw, 11 A slow white road invites me to walk down, 12 And hush makes room for careful steps and awe, 13 What felt like walls becomes a softer guide, 14 I change my pace, and find a path inside.

1 The clock above the corner blinks and blares, 2 It tells me when to start and when to stop, 3 I race its hands through crowded subway stairs, 4 I gulp my lunch and check the screen on top, 5 The day clicks open, shuts, then clicks again, 6 I am a gear that grinds because it must, 7 I chase the list, accept the metal chain, 8 And treat each minute like a boss to trust, 9 But when I miss a train, the city slows, 10 A stranger laughs and helps me catch my breath, 11 I notice birds that balance on the poles, 12 And choose to wait, not sprint myself to death, 13 The hours still move, yet I can mark my own, 14 I hold a beat the timetable can't own.