"Write down your thoughts"
professor instructs as the time ticks by.
My heart throttles in my chest
beating as a racehorse, ready to leap.
Jetting out this thick black ink onto paper
I describe..... my thoughts.
The task before my hand-and others too.
Contemplative, energetic scribbling,
puffed nostrils frozen in midair.
Brains scrambling for verbiage to dispose
on their cool white sheet.
Each thoughtful soul composed of history in shadows,
the tongues and twists through the pen.
Who me? the one to read your poetry?
My fingers flit as I beg for a cloud of rain
to drench my inflamed mind.
Not wanting to reveal the ice storm within.
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