The Plagiarize I Own
'Twas midday in mid-Manhattan
I was with the lunch crowd
then a voice sounds like platinum
drove me to turn around
of course, the color of your threads
amongst the bland, spread out
poetry in motion were reds
well stitched, without a doubt
caught a glimpse amidst the passing
and lost you to a trance
searched high and low merely guessing
hoping for one more chance
you winked, the pleasure of your eyes
immortalize the trice
albeit I should plagiarize
poetic friends advice
on blank paper articulate
that very own image
transfer that which you emulate
for all eyes ... a blank page.
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