I hate the color brown

I hate the color brown. It was such an unpleasant color. I was walking through the school corridors that day. I felt a gaze, and there he was. His eyes met mine, they're brown. I hate the color brown. When we walked pass each other, all I could see was his eyes. They were brown, I didn't like it. But why do I keep thinking of him? I hate his brown eyes. After that day, I saw him again. His eyes, smiling along his lips. Such a beauty to witness. I can't help but to smile, and look at him from a far. But why can't I help it? My feelings are bottled up in a jar. Weeks have passed and I haven't seen him ever since. I hate the color brown. No, do I hate the color brown? I hate the color brown. But his eyes are the only exception. I think of him whenever I hear “brown”. I love the color brown.