Confusing Aka Hazel Crimson Poem by Axiom Wheeler

CONFUSING AKA HAZEL CRIMSON

V1: I see the hazel eyes,
The songs do tell about,
And I ask myself:
Why these eyes of color?
I see the crimson veins,
The poets tell the story of.
I seem to ask in vain:
Why the vessels of color?

Chorus:
Confusing to me, are the things that you say.
Unclear to me, are your innocent ways.
Why do these fingertips quiver at the color?
And why do these broken bones shake at the pictures?
It's all confusing to me.

V2: I hear the sounds of day,
The screaming in the night.
I seem to be unknown,
And I remember pain.
I know the stories of,
The eyes and veins.
Will they wipe away,
The crimson and the grey?

(Chorus 2X)