By this logic,
**** is also beautiful.
A stunning mixture,
Of every color that entered your mouth
Of every food you eventually let out.

But more seriously,

Maybe they thought their eyes were plain,
Because they’re a realist?
Brown eyes are the most common eye color on Earth.
Clocking in at 55%.

“But let’s compare their aesthetic traits,
To something more unique,
In order to give the impression,
That we are deep!”

“Oh!
I know!
Mahogany!
Because wood is brown!”

Uhg.

I get it’s about perspective.
You want to appear to see something in them
That they don’t see in themselves.
To make them feel special.
And I’m sure they’ll like the poem.
And I’m sure other people will too.
And no one will think twice, or criticize you.

But your poem is boring.
And average at best.
Just like this rhyming scheme,
I use for the rest,

of my poem.

But that’s okay.
Practice’ll make perfect.
Maybe next time, write about the person?
And not just their eyes.
The relationship you want to express, is why their eyes are special.
Emphasis on “their.”
And why they make them special.
Emphasis on “they.”
Stop writing generic poems that fit everyone.
Write for the person whose eyes you lose yourself in.

I met a girl in high school.
She had brown eyes, with little specks.
As if genetics graced her with an aesthetic, that befit her the best.
She sailed from topic to topic,
Gracefully.
While I was lost in the islands in her eyes,
that cartographed the geography my mind began to see.

I’m glad her eyes did her justice,
Because her name didn’t.
Two syllables,
the latter a misspelling of coal:
Hands black after holding,
Soot filled lungs after smelling,
Bad kids’ reward for insolence.
She’s nothing close to that since,
She’s herself;
A country woman from a little town no one talks about.

We’d talk for hours.
We always could.
Until that bell rang,
And she stood,
up to leave.