The smells have gone far beyond, the fragrance I enjoyed once is not but a tale,

A tale of reality, of melody, of change and to learn, to explore, and a saga that entails,

A reminder of a time when I passed by a group of women who were walking and rushing,

Their fragrance was like the one from heaven; if not, where did they get it? but because of hurry,

I had gone, but the thought of it stuck in my head, and why something like this, I could ignore,

The desire to smell it again deepened in my soul, wherever I was, on the land or on a shore,

The scent had filled the atmosphere on the left, on the right, and the back for many yards,

It was hard to know who exactly wore the perfume, but someone was dragging it to assume,

The rewards of appreciation, admiration, a desire just to smell well, or maybe to feel well,

Whatever it was, the scent of it left the air soon; I still miss it even though the smell wasn’t anymore,

Life isn’t a coincidence, look, that happened again when I passed by a girl who scented the same,

She was alone, I was alone, and the breeze was calming, but when the thought to ask her came,

I slowed down a little and looked back. My heart pounded, and there was no courage to ask,

A tall stout figure, a man who can configure or even refigure just Donned on me.

He smiled, he was warm hearted, but before he departed, he figured and crafted.

An easy way to peace, which would keep us all bonded in a single piece, but here,

My heart pounded, my eyes landed down first then up and scan the man in front.

Slowly from bottom to top, then stuck in the middle space, slowly rose to his face.

Ostensibly he was intimidating, but his eyes friendly bright with glee, so I didn't flee.

I sipped drops of water, mustered up the courage, and because he has the privilege.

To use his power, instead he chose to empower the man in front of him in that hour.

His lips parted wider than ever I remembered before, so there was much to explore.

My eyes wended from his chest to eyes, throat to eyes, chin to eyes, cheek to eyes.

I was frozen, I couldn’t say anything, but the man could bring the needed thing.

He soon with a friendly remark, melted the ice, an affable query rolled the dice.

“How was the Saturday!” the man untied the knot, knew how to make matters soft.

I blushed, but with fabricated courage, I made my behavior soft in the right spot.

Nothing would make me happier than to become a tailor after seeing tailors sitting crisscross on the floor running their sewing machines. It was just stunning; they adored themselves in white clothes, hair oily and shiny; it seemed a perfect lifestyle. The scenery took control of my imagination, and my desire to become like them evolved at that moment. The question was why become a tailor, not an engineer, nor a doctor, but a tailor. Even though I was a child, my desire to learn tailoring deepened.

It was my mother’s aunt who rented a room in her house facing towards the road to some local tailors. My mother visited her aunt; she took me with her. For my mother, it was just a visit, but she was unaware of the impact her visit would have on her child. I looked at the tailors from a distance, wishing to be like them, while my mother called upon me to return home with her. I left the place with the imagination of being a tailor one day.

Letting my parents know my desire to learn tailoring was too big of an ask and an inappropriate demand for my age. They wouldn’t let me stay in the store with other tailors, nor would the tailor accept an apprentice of such age. I knew that fact, so I kept the desire in my heart and waited until I was ten. Deciding at that age would have some weight; in some cases, the parents would measure a child's maturity if they plan at such a young age.