Pantoums

David Colon

Creative Writing

Professor Miller

4/18/18

 

My mind is a revolving door

Like the ones in New York

As one thought enters

Hundreds follow

 

Like the ones in New York

They can never find their way out

Hundreds follow

What am I doing wrong?

 

They can never find their way out

The thoughts constrict my mind

What am I doing wrong?

They don’t stop

 

The thoughts constrict my mind

As one thought enters

They don’t stop

My mind is a revolving door

 

Another One I wrote

 

That night on that deserted road

I told you everything

You were the first to see through me

I became transparent

 

I told you everything

As you reached for my hand

I became transparent

As you squeezed ever so tightly

 

As you reached for my hand

My face inflamed

As you squeezed ever so tightly

I wanted you

 

My face inflamed

You were the first to see through me

I wanted you

That night on that deserted road