These Eyes Poem by jackie compton

These eyes.
They are not blue like the sky above.
But they are my eyes.
They are brown like the dirty river water of time.
They are the window to my total soul

These eyes.
They have seen the fall of hate.
The winter of distrust that rock mankind soul.
They have weep when the winds of racism blown.

These eyes.
They have glowed with the coming of the spring of hope.
They have marbled with the coming of the summer faith

These eyes.
They are not green with envy.
But still they are my eyes.
Brown they maybe.

Open to all to see.
The glory of tomarrow they wait to see.