The Soulless

This is what I have learned.
I have no patience for the soulless.
Not things and certainly,
not people.

Things I can throw out.
People I cannot.
Because I am stuck
with a soul of my own.

About this poem. 

Inspired by a New York Times editorial, of all things.

The picture was taken at the Wilson House, in Hebron, NY. It is a house with soul.

Tom