His Eyes,
Brown.
Not the usual brown.
Not the chocolate or the brown sugar kind or,
God forbid,
Shit.
They're the kind that makes
your heart warm.
Big doe eyes smiling
Down at you
Looking,
But never noticing....
My eyes.
Green,
Not the Granny Smith kind.
Never anything that reminds
You of anything remotely
Nice.
They're like the Atlantic.
That ugly, dirty green
With just a hint of blue.
The kind that is always
Wishing for more.
To be clear.
To be everyone's dream vacation
But is always second best.
YOU ARE READING
Deep Feelings
Poetrypretty self explanatory. I just create poems of how I'm feeling in that moment. hope you enjoy. P.s I wasn't really planning on putting my poems out there for the general public to read in fear of copywrite but as you can see, I did it anyway. So...
