Eyes...

A sea of green,
cut by pieces of the blue skies,
with a little bit of sunshine.
Those are my eyes.
The eyes with salty tears
Who run down my face,
everytime I think
that, for you,
I was just a waste.
Tears who doesn't seam to end,
Tears who will not bend,
to my will
of controlling them.
There's always tears,
they don't run out,
they run and
they only stop on my mouth.