True Blue, by Bobby Warner

His eyes were an off-color blue; 
more like a dirty, blue-green hue.

"Get contacts," I pleaded. "Make 
your eyes true blue."

"You don't understand me," he 
replied. "You haven't a clue."

I grew to hate him, and that is true. 
At night I slipped out, to look 
for someone new.

Someone more suited to my 
taste; someone with broad 
shoulders and small, trim waist.

Someone tall, dark and handsome, 
too.

With a beautiful smile-- 
and eyes true blue.