Hazel

When I look at a tree,

I see me.

The green, the brown – it’s natural.

In a sea of blue,

I see you.

The eyes of my family.

Around every town,

I see brown,

The eyes of the majority.

Two colors combined,

Fully intertwined,

To create one entity all its own.

Some people feel envy,

At the eyes from which others see,

But I could not be more proud of my hazel windows.

I feel very lucky too,

To have eyes so true,

That they change color to match the mood.

When, in tears, my eyes nearly drown,

Green steps up and takes the crown,

So vibrant and pure, it knows it must be saved for special occasions.

In my mind,

Hazel cannot be outshined,

For it is the most real of all the eyes.