The Third Eye

The Third Eye

I grew an eye
where silence lives,
right in the middle
of all I hide.

It does not blink
at pretty lies,
it opens wide
when truth walks by.

My other eyes
have seen enough,
the dust of people,
the masks they love.

But this one sees
beneath the skin,
the little wars
we keep within.

It sees the grief
we do not speak,
the broken strong,
the tired weak.

It sees the light
that fear can’t kill,
the hurt lying
deeper still.

Some call it strange,
some turn away,
as if a soul
should not have say.

But I have walked
through dark before,
and found myself
at another door.

The third eye came
not just to see,
but to wake
what sleeps in me.

So if you stare,
then stare all through,
for what looks back
may also be you.