In the midst of walking innocently through the streets of Oakland,

I was crossing the traffic lights with the consent of green

Thinking about the torn relationships between two close ones

And how to repair current and unforeseen damage

All of a sudden, fortuitously, three men

Encountered me with audacity and pursuit

To take away my necessities hidden in the black enchanted pockets of my jeans

And constitute a harm to my emotional and physiological state

With the envelope of subjugation forming

I broke free from the conformation with alacrity

At the scene of the crime

Where it was the prime time to escape the obscene matter

The prime time culminated even more to strengthen its zenith

Where a hero named Megan rescued me

And illuminate the safe state she carries

With the hues of relation and relaxation

After the ride home, I made a mistake

I didn’t get her phone number

But she sided with me and had my number

And ever since, I’ve been waiting and will be waiting for my hero.

To the return of my home,

I am now in my dome of comfort

I called one of my close teachers to discuss the tome of an open mind

Especially when in a situation with some degree of inclination to judge.

Megan, I will be waiting for your call. Please call me when you have the chance.

I just want to simply tango with you and be friends.