The Eyes Are The Windows To The Soul

One day I was sitting on the couch staring out the window at the rain.
My mother approached me and looked into my eyes.
“Something’s wrong.” She said softly
I asked her how she knew so easily.
“The eyes are the windows to the soul.” She replied
I never forgot that day.

Another day, hears later, I met you.y
You seemed happy. Every day you woke up and put on your smile.
That’s all anyone looked for, but not me.
I looked further.
I approached you and looked into your eyes.
“Something’s wrong.” I said.
You asked me how I knew and I gave you the same answer my mother gave me years ago.

You took me aside, somewhere where no one would hear.
It seemed as though you trusted me, but you really just wanted to get it off your chest.
I knew, the eyes are the windows to the soul.
You told me how alone you felt.
You confessed how depressed you were.
I saw your cuts, I saw you cry.
“Why am I telling you this?” You asked yourself.
“You don’t care anyway.”
You tried to run out, but I grabbed your hand.

I showed you my cuts, I told you my story.
We’re the same, because we’re different.
We can be different, together.
We can be the same, together.
I saw that you still didn’t trust me.

“Look into my eyes.” I told you.
“You can trust me.”
At once, you looked into my eyes, and yours filled with hope.
The eyes are the windows to the soul.