The third eye,
Is a bird’s eye,
View on a hurt guy,
Within a dirt life.

Since first flight,
Cut with a big knife,
By Dad and his wife,
Who gave me life.

What hurt Dad?
Who hurt Dad’s wife?
So much strife,
In this foul scented life.

Bitterness so rife,
In these brown eyes,
Since all that I,
Know is to,
Trust that third eye.