brown is the fur of my coat
brown are the trunks of the trees
brown is the coffee, ready to roast
brown are the snails that sliver along
brown is the leather jacket
brown are the rocks along the coast
brown is the box, im ready to unpack it
brown are his eyes
brown is the shirt that i wore
brown are the dogs that go by
brown is the hair strewn on the floor
brown are the blood stains that have dried
brown is the skin that held me
brown are the leaves that have died
brown is the sugar, sweet as can be
--Ariana C., Adult