The girl who sits in front of me

Wears a hat, that hides the eyes creating mystery

A shadow hangs under trying to creep down and hide her face

But her smile makes itself known with a subtle grace

Her hair weaved together put in place along her shoulder

But it screams for freedom by the loose ends that are broken free

Cloaked in a lax black hoodie

Covering all above the waist, oh the cruelty that man suffers

But wait! The tights she wears hug her shape quite sharply giving hindsight to what lies above

Still considering the time and place I must keep my eyes on her face

And I look for ways to uncap the cloud giving shade

To such an angel like herself with a smile of heavenly grace

But I fail to do so and before I know it, the angel isn’t there

Because while trying to write this complementary complaint to give to her, she arose and escaped.