Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Eva Jun 2019
Was busy chasing waterfalls
Got caught up in it all
Until I looked up and saw
The extravagant brown;
In other eyes never found.

I looked into your eyes and I knew
That to you I could not lie,
Nor ever deceive you,
Will never let you go but
Will never let you get too close.
Robin MacCuish May 2019
you are the reason I sit and pause at brown eyes
make my stomach swoop when they look softly
gazing beyond the soul that inhabits my body
letting me rot in disappointment
for they are not your eyes
Jordan May 2019
She
She has brown eyes.
Amber and tired.
Flecked with gold
And cautious ambition.
They pass over you a moment,
Before getting lost once again
In her own shrouded world.
You hold that gaze
After it has since long past
Wondering what she thought,
What she saw,
If anything.
Are you to her a muse,
A distraction of the mundane?
Or simply backdrop,
Immersed within the bustling
Yet uninspiring scene?
She has brown eyes,
And she sees right through you.
But can you see into hers?
As you ponder about,
You catch her eyes,
Gleaming yet dilute
Within the sunlight,
Caught just right
Within the honey rays.
And that’s when you notice,
That her eyes are also green.
TheMystiqueTrail Apr 2019
Twilight is pastel,
grey grief gripping the soul,
wrapping in a pall of thickened mist
with a sickening shade of
mourning brown.

At the horizon,
you wait for the homing birds
to fly on its wings
like a dream glued to my life’s script.

Many times I wondered,
why you come back to this land
where the scary hand of the butcher
scuttles every dream;
where humanity drowns
in its own anguished cries.

The smell of blood is
intoxicating when its grasp
tightens like a noose
on my consciousness.
Amtul Hajra Mar 2019
Been long since that paled sunny sky,
autumn winds are drifting by;
magic moving under skies,
never seen by waking eyes.
except for them,
to those who believe
blissfully, beaming autumn vibes.
dreaming as the days go by,
dreamingly, the summers die.
eager eye and willing ear:
a pleasing wonderful tale to hear.
in autumn when the leaves are brown;
reincarnating, a new better one,
take pen and ink and write it down,
till the tale is rightly done.
Farhan Ahmed Mar 2019
And all this seen of different colors
I only see one in town
The eyes filters the good fellas
But pauses on the lady in brown

The tape is quite long for spare time, a lot
Maybe go for a walk
And capture the films in real
I shall rebuilt everything to the likeness,
Permit me, Shall you not?
⭐️
Their eyes were like the stars—
But stars are not blue,
Nor green,
Nor the deepest shade of brown.
**** watch people not read this note section, but this is another parody on those wannabe poets that think by making prose aesthetically arranged and making it look like a stanza is poetry. If you know, you know.
Also, watch this trend because it’s “aesthetic.”

Also, Shakespeare’s sonnet gave me the idea for this ****. Hence the title.
Next page