I look down, with my eyes closed,
drag my feelings down with my eyes
taking the pain in my leg
the pain from my questions
not getting answers
You don't know if I have a soul,
that big bundle of feelings
most claim to have.
That thing that gives them hope
and life
You don't know if what everyone says
is true,
weather they claim they have the
biggest
most
glorious
soul of hope and life-
or if they say there soul has been drained,
a hole drawn by knifes and cuts.
I don't know if I have one, or if it's even
my fingers typeing these words,
or someone else's.
Weather the spark of life has been cut by a sword
of frost.
You don't know if the "Meanest" person has good reasons
or bad ones.
Or if the "Nicest" is the cruelest,
if the one that claims to never lie
may be lying right now.

And maybe you do know- but you would have to be
more
than a mind reader,
you would have to be
the reader
of souls

Tell me, dear reader,
if you know for sure
What
Who
Why
and Where
in my soul
or Souless
being?