My Imagination She's a girl from our hood; A girl from a perfect mould; Can't be matched with any other gender being' She stands still to capture her glance, In a skirt that 'closes' her thighs! She smiled looking at my side; slowly and left behind her pleasant smell, I smiled back hoping for more; but all I could see is her back, Her hips were swinging; thought of my childhood, Her thighs were imaginary; thought of magnifying After all I blamed myself for not saying a word or standing up! By J. Simeon