Blue soothes the mind, washing over our troubles with the ocean waves.

Green like the folliage in a quiet forest, or like the emeralds that are adorned on crowns.

Black mysterious like obsidian, sought after like the mineral.

Hazel, an orchestra of colors that confuse sight, pulling you closer to inspect each color.

But brown crouches down, looking down at the floor and mumbling,

“Who would like my dull brown eyes?”

When I look into your eyes,

I can’t help but ask,

“Have you seen how wet rocks glisten in the morning light?”