Green-Eyes
I hate my green-eyes sometimes,
They’ll just glare at you and blame you for everything I do.
Why?
Love shouldn’t be this cold,
one wrong move and you’re gone and away from here.
Why?
You’d write poems about me, to me even.
We’d even create paper airplanes together.
So where has that all gone?
Surely I’m not going mad?
Surely I’m not being unreasonable?
Surely I’m not wrong?
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