His head was a window where all <br />Could see inside: The floors, <br />The corners, the furniture, the walls, <br />There was no way to shut the doors. <br />He was forced to hear all the mutters, <br />He just couldn't shut them out. <br />The grumblers, the tut-tut-tuters, <br />Knew what his life was all about. <br />Their eyes probed his mind like searchlights, <br />'Till he moaned, 'Can't you let me alone? <br />Must you stare at each joy and blight? <br />Still they honed and questioned, 'till all was known. <br />Finally, there was nothing left to see or hear, <br />Not even a gemstone or a soft groan. <br />Gone were all the treasures and fears, <br />Nothing remained but a crystal bone.<br /><br />Mary Naylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-man-whose-head-was-a-window/
