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.