Never Meant to be Read

Where might I find a Window to the Soul?
I have searched in one's eyes, as they say in the stories
For eyes are clear and shining
And should surely lead to Deep Within

But I have stared into eyes
Eyes that stared back
Much too thickly layered to possess a core
And the light you see within them
Is but a hard, cold reflection

So where to search, to find the key to one's heart
Do you question them relentlessly
Wait for the right answer to tumble through their lips?
Or perhaps search through their things
For the hidden-away box?

Or do you look at their words
Tipped cautiously off their pencil
Fragile and erasable

For I have peered through inquiring eyes
At words
As dark and empty as they seem
And found, in the corner of their curve,
The small, clear window
That leads to a Soul

But I have moved on
My interest pushed aside
For some windows are never meant to be opened
And some words written,
Never meant to be read