I walk out,
upon the cold cemente,
from the brick jail they call school.
As i exit the cell,
i see the spectrum of oranges and reds,
Upon the horizon.
My eyes follow every child,
til they fall upon his perfect face,
he sits upon his perfect truck,
solid black,
just plain perfect.
My feet don't budge,
My head screams move,
My eyes scan his perfect body,
they land upon the light blue flower,
sitting in his perfect hands.
My feet finally move,
and we make a constant stride toward each other,
her hands me the flower,
i take his hand,
we walk to my car.
He opens the door,
he kisses me cheek,
we part our sperate ways.
My eyes open,
my lips part,
i take a gasp,
"God he the perfect man."
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