Colors and balloons, everywhere I see

Gary was the birthday boy,

nothing it meant to me.

He was a stranger henceforth ,

when people say, his eyes are blue

like the sailing wind from north.

I have never met him,

and I don't want to.

I am suffice with coffee and Tim.

How did I end here, you may ask,

turns out his mom and mine

were some closest task.

I clutch my present

tight in hand,

whispering crescent

moon and all,

I want to go to bed

but no it's the birthday boy,

who is dressed in polo red.

And I see him

for the very first time,

his eyes were blue, so blue,

that it should be a crime.

He doesn't notice me though,

and I fake ignorance

of my blissful go.

It was his eyes,

dazzling bluest blue,

unlike mine filled with lies.

Present shoved

to my mother's hand

I run next door

to take my stand.

When Tara questions me,

"What are you doing,

away from his birthday, Charlie?"

I shake my head

and try to forget his eyes,

bluest of blue,

like the Aurora Borealis.

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