My soul refuses me.

Walking by I look into the eyes of my by passers. Do their souls scream for help! Are they suffering from endless crisis of money, food, sexuality, or even politics! My soul greedily takes theirs to ask them "How!" " How do you hide your shame and guilt with a smile on that face!" I can see into the souls of them but not the outside of them? The plastic over their skins shielding me from them shading the truth when all along. All along I was never moving, walking or seeing into others. But merely seeing into the eyes of me who I do not know of the me. I am the plastic hiding my self from the truth, pain, sexuality, money, food, and even politics. My soul stealing out away from me for a different life of happiness! Then it is true my soul will no longer be hurt but strive to live beyond the lowest point because we may lack the mind strength but our soul refuses to let us damage it with out a cry for help or power to keep our feet moving when we merely just sat down.