I have eyes of hazel
a mosaic of greens and browns
olives, avocados, old bananas, oaks
seafoam and swirling driftwood
they've got the life of a tree
        ––– the strength of a cedar!
there's not a trace of rage...
red, I meant a trace of red

Sometimes they shift
with the lighting or my outfit
or the situation and my comfort level
'cause I'm pretty good at hiding pain
behind humor and kindness like Robin
or simply a stoic gaze and an "oh, I just have an RBF"

There's no electric blue
of piercing, unquenchable energy
of lighthearted laughter and joy
Just verdant meadows and rich chocolate
steadfast and authentic