His eyes were brown, he thought them plain.
Oh but his eyes, so kind
A color with a depth you could get lost in
A color with a depth you could drown in
And never want to come up for air
YOU ARE READING
The broken, are the brilliant
شِعرThese are my thoughts and poems. I don't know where they come from, they just seem to fall out of me. (Photography mine as well)
