The color they were

I never watch you deep in your eyes,

in fear to break them like glass,

now I regret,

to never just look closely,

at how beautiful they were.

I can only try now,

to remember the color you had,

too many time shadowed by your hair,

while watching me,

asking me,

where will we be, tomorrow.

I never care for it too much,

as the present flew by,

and so did you,

without finding, which color they were.

You can believe my regret,

the uncapability of sitting down,

and just look and stare,

to tell you, how beautiful they were.