My eye is judged for its
color.
Hazel that is not used to
brightness.
Filled with a perceptive
glance.
Adorned with black coal
calling.
Consider me your worst
enemy.
Hidden beneath the green
brushes.
I crawl into pain and
desire.
I am destined to be your
failure.
Dress me in happy
colors.
Make me over in serene
silence.
But do not expect my eye
color
To change without warning to your
liking.

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Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

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